I’ve been thinking about my mother after reading about the ordeal that Amy Acton endured from her mother’s husband. Thinking of how he raped her when she was only twelve literally made me cry. I thought of a former student that I taught whose uncle had raped her resulting in a pregnancy when she was only twelve. I can still see her childlike face and the sadness that dominated it even though it happened many years ago.
In that moment I was informed that the girl’s uncle was threatening to kill her for telling her parents what he had done. The principal of the school cautioned me to be on the lookout for a man attempting to pull her from my classroom. He told me to hit the panic button if he came. I remember being terrified of encountering such a vile person. Then one of my male students asked if he might make a small change to my seating chart. He proceeded to created a screen using himself and some of his friends so that nobody would be able to see her if they came into the classroom. I almost cried again understanding that this young boy was protecting the child mother.
My own mother became a widow at the age of thirty. She was an exotically beautiful woman who attracted the stares of men wherever she went. Even as a child I saw her allure. She quietly devoted herself to me and my brothers. It was not until I was in my late teens that she began going out to meet new people and of course the men flocked to her. Nonetheless she kept her meetings with them public and casual noting that she did not want a man in our house who might get the wrong idea and do something horrific to me.
Back then I thought she was being overly careful. I saw myself as a scrawny girl who would be of no interest to a male. In spite of my protests she stuck to her plan and did her best not to be the person who accidentally brought a man into my world who would.
It was only after I was teaching that I learned how may young girls were sexually abused by older men who should have been making the world safe for them. In one case that hit me particularly hard it was a fellow teacher who was accused of foundling his stepdaughter while her mother was out of town He admitted his sins publicly but I felt betrayed as did all of the teachers and female students at our school. He was incredibly contrite but the description of what he had done and how it had affected the young girl was shocking.
I suppose that I should have thanked my mother for working so hard to make certain that I would never have to endure such a situation. I ultimately appreciated her vigilance but I never found a way to tell her how much I loved her for insuring that I would not end up in a situation like Amy Acton, or that twelve year old student, or the stepdaughter of a teacher that I had once admired. Her love for me was so unconditional that she was unwilling to even take a chance in feeling certain that a man that she brought to our home would always be a perfect gentleman.
As a nation we have been bombarded with stories of sex trafficking in our midst. We are aware of the egregious actions of Epstein and his girlfriend. We have learned that the file on his life is filled with the names of prominent people who have also been accused of heinous acts. None of them have been tried for their crimes, not even our president who was obviously a good friend of Epstein. We know only that Donald Trump was tried and found guilty in a lawsuit for sexually attacking a woman in a dressing room. We know that he bragged about grabbing girls in an inappropriate way. We have heard the accusations from dozens of women claiming that he violated them.
So when a sordid political ad shows up in Ohio accusing Amy Acton of lying and somehow being deficient and unqualified for office based on a violent act that took place when she was twelve we expect everyone to condemn the very idea. Instead both our president and vice president boasted that it was fair game to bring up what must have been one of the most horrific moments of her life. Somehow my stomach tightens and I feel the urge to scream or shed a tear in witnessing the lack of humanity that their coldness defines.
This has been a problem for women throughout history. All too often the women are blamed as the villains when men sexually attack them. Maybe they were too flirtatious and sent the wrong vibes. Maybe they were drunk or drugged out and asked for it. Maybe they should not have taken the risk of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe they are simply just lying to get attention and make trouble. Over and over again we challenge them more than we do with the men. When the two men holding the highest offices in our nation are unwilling to denounce an add that brings up the horror of a twelve year old girl we have surely hit rock bottom. This is especially so if we decide to go ahead and vote for the man in Ohio so desperate to win that he goes into the gutter to get there.
I cry for all women who have ever had to endure such egregious behavior, especially when their own mothers betrayed them. Surely one day we will all be better but obviously we are not yet there.
