Thursday, September 18, 2014

Child Abuse: The Seed of Violence; Not the NFL

by Irene Daniel

Last week I couldn't stop thinking about Janay Rice. This week my mind wanders to the safety and well-being of Adrian Peterson's sons. Several incidents of late, involving several different players on several different teams in the NFL, have drawn the nation's attention to domestic and family violence once again. And Roger Goddell has failed miserably in articulating a coherent message about how this crime will be dealt with by the NFL.

It's not like incidents of men beating their wives, as well as men and women beating and otherwise abusing their children, is anything new in the NFL; or anywhere else for that matter. Every generation seems to pass through the familiar patterns of family violence and dysfunction, storing hurts forever in our memories, and then pretending for the rest of our lives that nothing happened. What better example have we that violence just begets more violence?

I do not condone cold-cocking a spouse into unconsciousness or leaving marks on a preschooler's scrotum, at any time for any reason whatsoever. At the same time, let's stop demonizing Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson and the rest of the violent offenders. They didn't get that way all by themselves overnight. It took a long time to turn these former preschoolers into men who use violence as a problem-solving tool on their loved ones. And they had a lot of help along the way: from their abusers when they were too little to fight back; from coaches and teachers who looked the other way because they had a particular talent that could create wealth for lots of people someday; from a society that values athletic skills over almost everything else, including us fans. They had a lot of enablers. They all learned at a very early age that violence is an effective problem-solving tool.

I realize that maybe some people don't know what it's like to be terrorized with beatings from someone who loves and cares for you when you are a small child. It's pretty frightening stuff. I realize now that my mother should have been medicated, but when I was little I couldn't know that. I was always afraid of her when I was a little girl -- every single day. The Mexican family and Mexican culture that I was born into was one wherein violence and machismo went together like soup and salad.

In exploring the seeds of abuse, I am in no way suggesting that those who abuse children should not be stopped immediately and held accountable for their misaligned sense of discipline. Most parents who violently impose discipline upon their children are just doing what makes sense to them; what was done to them. Thus, the vicious cycle of violence goes on and on with no seeming beginning or ending. And that is what makes it so dangerous.

Each generation continues until one person says enough. I'm sure that my mother did not intend the consequences of her unpredictable fits of rage, in which she dragged me around the house by the hair, or beat me with broomstick handles. And I can tell you I've had a lot of bad days around it all. It was like living shell-shocked and always on high alert because it could happen at any time, for any reason, or for no reason at all.

Most child abusers and wife beaters were abused as children. And this need for violence-based solutions is usually something we experience and/or observe as children, and we remember how effective it was. And so, when we are frustrated, we may lash out with angry words and clenched fists, just as we observed. I often felt out of control at times, and it really scared me. And much of the time, it's as if the decision was already made for me, as though I was giving in to a subconscious predisposition without even realizing it. I know that my mother experienced this too. It's as though she could not help herself, could not calm down. Without medication, neither can I.

As a survivor of frighteningly wicked child abuse, I tend to be very aware of respecting and protecting the person and physical space of children. However, I might have turned out to be an abuser. I had a gift with language arts, which enabled me to educate myself and learn more about child abuse. I also sought treatment for anxiety and depression and take medication as directed. My mother couldn't do that for herself. In her own torment, she couldn't look at it. We never really talked about it, or came to a resolution about her violent temper, but I know that we had both gotten to a place in our relationship that was healed many years before she died. As Maya Angelou used to say, "When you know better, you do better."

And the sad truth is that those guilty of any kind of family violence were mostly beaten and belittled as children. Hitler's father savagely beat him bloody, breaking boards on his back. And look how beautifully he turned out. And for those in the Black community, savage whippings that drew blood were witnessed by generations of little Black children for several centuries. They came to accept it as a part of life.

Although, the truth is that, family violence knows no ethnic or economic bias. It happens in rich Black and White families, as well as poor families of all colors and creeds. Even Judges and people of prominence beat up on their families. No segment of our society has escaped the harvest of the bitter seed of child abuse.

Children who were abused are more likely to experiment with drugs, alcohol and sex and to act out in other self-destructive ways. Moreover, they are more likely to use violence as a problem-solving tool as adults.

It seems to me that, if we want to solve some of our most epidemic social problems, the best place to start is where it all begins -- with child abuse.


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