So when the idea for what was supposed to be this blog started forming in my head it was a totally different blog. It was going to be about the #metoo posts. And it still sort of will be, but it was going to be about the ramifications of #secrets. And it will sort of still be one. Just the lessons were deeper than I thought.
See as everyone started to share their #metoo stories a friend of mine (pretty close to lifelong, if not lifelong) shared his. He was sort of vague about the details and I filled in what I thought was probably the case. Before writing this I sent him a message to see if he was okay with me talking about it, and to verify what I thought was true.
A few things came out of the conversation that followed, the start was he doesn't talk publicly about the details (so I won't either) and I was wrong. What happened was actually worse than I had thought, and completely different. And I had no idea. And then after I shared with him what I thought we started talking about the why I thought that and the other things that lived in the shadows of our shared growing up experience. I had assumed his story related to the big secret in our church and it didn't. But what we both discovered was that the big secret wasn't anywhere close to the only secret.
I've talked before about the youth minister at our church being a pedophile. I've also talked about it being part of why I ended up leaving the church. There were a lot of reasons, but one of the big ones is that they (the elders of the church) shared with all of us in the youth group (of which he was in charge) that he was being turned out from the church because he was gay. Did you hear the record scratch? Gay. Not because he had been systematically grooming and abusing the boys in our youth group for years, but because he was gay. In fact they didn't really even touch on the real reason. We all whispered about it, it was known that he had tried grooming the wrong young man who had turned him in to his father. But the details of what he actually did to the other boys never really came out.
I found out years later because I was told about them. In detail. And it was horrific. And it was wide spread. He had done it to a few boys. He had his favorites, of course, the ones that he knew wouldn't talk. The ones he broke the worst. And they kept the secrets even after he left the church because they felt shame. The were ashamed of what happened TO them. What an adult in a position of power had subjected them to. They were victims and they felt shame. And the church aided and abetted a criminal because they didn't want to deal with it. The Catholics aren't the only ones to hide their pedophiles. Never think that they are. Any place that a pedophile can get to kids they will try to be. And a church, any church, is a great hiding place because you can use religion to shame and scare them in to being quiet. And those kids, the ones that are hurt don't just get over it when the abuser is moved to a new church. Or shunted out in to the wilderness. That hurt doesn't just evaporate. The ramifications are life long, or life ending in some cases.
So there was the big damage. And the reverberations of that were felt for decades, still felt as those boys are now grown men living their own lives, hopefully having found help to reconcile their hurts. But I know some never did. Some never were able to heal. The damage is lasting.
I've also shared my story about the son of an elder who tried to rape me when we were in high school. And how it took me years to even describe it as attempted rape. And before that to even think of it as anything other than my fault. We had been sort of dating after all. I had made out with him before. I was willing to kiss him that night as well. I was in charge of my sexuality and responsible for his as well, so sayeth the church. And he was right when he told me that nobody would have believed me over him anyway. So I tucked it away. It was a date gone wrong. A bad experience. A nasty break up. It took years for me to admit what it actually had been, what had almost happened, and that it was in no way, shape, or form my fault.
When my friend and I talked about this yesterday he said he had an idea of who it was due to a similar situation with another friend of ours. It wasn't the same boy. So there had been more than one. Doing the same sort of thing. And we all kept the secrets because of the shame we felt. And even now I won't say the names of either of the boys in a public forum. Too much time has passed. I have no idea what they have done with their lives. If they have changed. Maybe they have truly reformed. They might have. After all people do change. Maybe they realized what they had done was wrong and sought counseling and are now decent human beings. Who am I to dredge up a decades old accusation?
It's complicated. The things we dealt with in the past. They are complicated. Our #metoo stories. Our #secrets. Our lives.
The way we all react to things is complicated as well, and varied, there is no if x then y result. What happened in that time period, the way the church handled things. The secrets. The dark corners in what was supposed to be a literal sanctuary. Those things drove me away from the church. I left. My friend? They led him to a deeper relationship with the church. To a meaningful existence making it a better place for others. I told him how proud I was of him yesterday. And it's true. Though the church will never be for me he makes me hopeful for churches as a whole. If I were to go to one, I'd go to one like his. If I were looking for a spiritual leader I'd look for someone like him. Because he leads by walking beside his congregation. That's a great place to lead from. He knows the shadows that people can get lost in because he's seen them from both sides, and he chose light, or I should say Light. I think that's awesome.
But it's not for me.
The church will always be part of my foundation. It will always have played a part in what shaped my moral code. For good and for bad. I mean even yesterday as we were talking about things that happened to us in our childhoods, things that NEVER should have been kept secret there was a part of me that thought, "Is this gossip? Maybe I shouldn't say anything." That's part of the bad. See, if they can convince you that telling is gossip, which is a sin, then they can keep you quiet. Good and bad. It shaped who I am.
The good parts? I was talking to my lifelong friend yesterday. That's a good part. We have that shared experience. He is younger than I am but not by much, so we overlapped in our groups at times. He understands the short hand. Jet Cadets. Bible Bowl. El Porvenir. And the closeness that is formed in a life with that many shared touchstones. His mother played the organ at my father's funeral and I would have been devastated if it had been anyone else. It was a smallish church, lots of ties between families, even now I am amazed at how many of the "old families" in the church intermarried and have ties for generations. Last names from my youth are still in my feed. Usually as friends of friends...I am, after all, a godless heathen but it's still a tie to my foundation. And that's a good part.
So this was going to be a #metoo blog, and there will be another one. But it ended up being a #secrets blog. Our dark shadows might have formed us, but please, please, please, be part of a new generation, a new voice that speaks loudly and clearly. If you are a victim of abuse, assault, attempted rape, rape, none of that is your fault. None of it. No matter what they tell you. No matter what you have been taught about what you are supposed to be in control of. The only thing you are in control of is yourself. And if you are a victim you are not at fault. We need to be the lights now that clear away the shadows. We need to make sure there isn't another wave of #metoo stories in 20 years.
We need to be better.
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