Listen Well
"You, as a small child, had nothing to gain - nothing - by complaining and still your voice went unheard. I promise you, it's not unheard now." ~ Judge Aquilina
Ever since news of the sexual abuse scandal involving USA Gymnastics broke, I've been following the coverage. I have loved watching gymnastics since the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta and I've followed the athletes in every Olympics since. It broke my heart to hear the reports that these young women, who had given so much of their lives to the sport they loved, had suffered such abuse at the hands of the doctor who was charged with caring for them. Even more horrific was the cover up from the people who had knowledge that such abuses were happening.
When watching coverage of this doctor being sentenced for his crimes, I was proud of each and every young lady that stood up to face him. Having been in that exact position itself, I know how incredibly terrifying that is. The judge who handled the case made sure to speak supportive and encouraging words to each survivor that came forward. On a video I watched, the above quote is something she said to one survivor who told about the abuse but was not believed. I paused and rewound the video, listening to her words again. Then I listened one more time, with my eyes closed, letting her words comfort my wounded heart.
You see, I was once a child who told her parents she had been abused and wasn't believed. As a ten year old little girl, I had bared my soul, telling the biggest, scariest secret I had been carrying for as long as I could remember and my dad said, "I don't believe you." I can still remember the deep devastation I felt hearing those words. In defense of my dad, I was accusing his father of unspeakable acts and I'm sure his response came from a place of shock and confusion. If faced with a similar situation, I don't know what my reaction would be. Still, that didn't lessen the pain and confusion I felt sitting on our couch that night. My dad kept asking for more details, words I couldn't speak then and still can't speak now, and when I wouldn't give them, he would repeat that I was making it up.
What did I have to gain that night, telling this huge secret? Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. In fact, I stood to lose a lot if I couldn't convince my dad I was telling the truth - maybe some form of punishment, having to go back to my grandparent's house after school the next day, but most of all, the fear that if my own dad didn't believe me, no one ever would.
My point is, most people - children, teens, even adults - don't lie about being abused. I would venture to say that those who do are very few and far between. If someone trusts you enough to share this extremely painful and shameful experience with you, PLEASE believe them. Wouldn't it be better to err on the side of caution than to risk possibly sending that child or teen back into the abusive experience? I can't explain the amount of courage and trust it takes to tell someone else you've been abused. Listen. Listen well...and be good stewards of their courage and trust in you.
Ever since news of the sexual abuse scandal involving USA Gymnastics broke, I've been following the coverage. I have loved watching gymnastics since the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta and I've followed the athletes in every Olympics since. It broke my heart to hear the reports that these young women, who had given so much of their lives to the sport they loved, had suffered such abuse at the hands of the doctor who was charged with caring for them. Even more horrific was the cover up from the people who had knowledge that such abuses were happening.
When watching coverage of this doctor being sentenced for his crimes, I was proud of each and every young lady that stood up to face him. Having been in that exact position itself, I know how incredibly terrifying that is. The judge who handled the case made sure to speak supportive and encouraging words to each survivor that came forward. On a video I watched, the above quote is something she said to one survivor who told about the abuse but was not believed. I paused and rewound the video, listening to her words again. Then I listened one more time, with my eyes closed, letting her words comfort my wounded heart.
You see, I was once a child who told her parents she had been abused and wasn't believed. As a ten year old little girl, I had bared my soul, telling the biggest, scariest secret I had been carrying for as long as I could remember and my dad said, "I don't believe you." I can still remember the deep devastation I felt hearing those words. In defense of my dad, I was accusing his father of unspeakable acts and I'm sure his response came from a place of shock and confusion. If faced with a similar situation, I don't know what my reaction would be. Still, that didn't lessen the pain and confusion I felt sitting on our couch that night. My dad kept asking for more details, words I couldn't speak then and still can't speak now, and when I wouldn't give them, he would repeat that I was making it up.
What did I have to gain that night, telling this huge secret? Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. In fact, I stood to lose a lot if I couldn't convince my dad I was telling the truth - maybe some form of punishment, having to go back to my grandparent's house after school the next day, but most of all, the fear that if my own dad didn't believe me, no one ever would.
My point is, most people - children, teens, even adults - don't lie about being abused. I would venture to say that those who do are very few and far between. If someone trusts you enough to share this extremely painful and shameful experience with you, PLEASE believe them. Wouldn't it be better to err on the side of caution than to risk possibly sending that child or teen back into the abusive experience? I can't explain the amount of courage and trust it takes to tell someone else you've been abused. Listen. Listen well...and be good stewards of their courage and trust in you.
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