Author's Blog

Tools to Prevent Child Abuse: Attention

Children are most vulnerable to repeated abuse when they are starving for attention. Simply spending quality time with your children can greatly decrease the chances that children will allow repeated abuse to occur.

When your child gets off the school bus and greets you, it is important to ask one simple question: "How was your day?" Sometimes your children will give you an automatic or default response of, "Fine," but sometimes you will get an earful. Resist the urge to slow them down when they are excited about the story they're sharing unless it's for clarity. Don't discourage them by telling them to calm down, again, unless it's for clarity. Try to simply listen to all their words, nodding or acknowledging that you heard them, and allow them to talk until they are all talked out. You may hear about some inappropriate behavior that needs to be corrected (by them or a potential abuser) or you may only hear about how their best friend passed a note to a crush, but the key is to allow them the open forum to share with you what happened during the course of their day.

Take the time, or make the time, to spend quality time with your children. I know a family who designates Halloween as Children's Day (in the same way there is Mother's Day, Father's Day, etc.) and give gifts and have a special dinner. Another family spends one hour three days a week designated specifically for reading – either allowing the children to read aloud to you or everyone reading together in the same room. Having dinner at the table together as a family is an easy way to spend time with your children. Meet them for lunch at school (or if you have the time and means, go out for lunch). Have a girl's night (or boy's night) where you watch movies or play games. If you have more than one child, do some activities with all of them and also set aside one-on-one time with them. I know another family who designates an entire week of royal treatment (that everyone in the family participates in) for birthdays. Most parents don't work all seven days a week for twelve or more hours so there is time, even if it is only one parent at a time, to spend with your children. If you do work all seven days a week for twelve or more hours, try to take advantage of your breaks required by law to talk to them on the phone or meet them for a meal.

The point is to make your children feel that they are on your mind, special and unique to you, and have someone they trust to take care of them unconditionally. Then they aren't easily lured into spending time with potential abusers to feel fulfilled, whole, and loved.

The Color of Water – James McBride

James McBride, an accomplished musician and African-American author, has written a stunning and impressive tribute to his Jewish mother. My review is late in terms of this book being published in 1996 and because it has been used for multiple higher education curriculums and political/philosophical discussions. However, the best books and stories are poignant for multiple audiences and stand the test of time. I'm sure my review cannot compare with what has been shared in those discussions, lectures, and debates, so I decided to take a slightly different route. My book review here is extensive because I compare my own experiences with the story and events that unfold in James McBride's book.

The first sentence of the story comes from the mouth of Ruth McBride Jordan (b. 1921 - d. 2010) and draws you in although it is simple. I think the best first sentences are two or three words long. Ruth McBride is interviewed by her son, James McBride, and the information she shared after so many years of refusing to talk about it is recorded alternately with the author's story. Ruth, or Mommy – as she was affectionately known by most – refuses to tell her inquisitive and lost son about her past and also refuses to answer his question about her color. This has what was initially a negative effect on her son because he felt a need to know his history and background in order to know himself and his purpose in life better. As Mommy's story unfolds, you find out that there were a lot of occasions where she was a victim of and witness to abuse and neglect. I believe she knew there had to be something better than the life she was living and she was afforded the opportunity to experience that as a result of a less than positive life changing event. I can understand the need to keep some things to yourself, particularly if they were so painful that you didn't know how to respond, however, I believe that keeping that information to yourself not only hurts future generations but must cause some kind of unease (or dis-ease) in the secret keeper.

My own mother has several stories that she promised herself she would take to her grave – and she has (b. 1942 - d. 1989). I suspect those stories include occurrences of abuse and neglect and making choices out of a need to survive that she was embarrassed about and regretted. The problem with that is when the generational cycle of abuse was carried out through her seeds (though not at her hand), we didn't know how to process the victimization and it left us broken. I look at myself in the mirror and at my siblings and wonder just how much of who I am comes from her side of the family – of which there are so many secrets there is no way to ever know the Thomas in me. However, my father's side of the family, the Walkers, is the total opposite. Granted my father withheld many secrets as well, his family is large enough that there are enough people who shared stories so that I know who I am and where I come from despite Daddy's secrets. I see my smile in my aunts and uncles, and my spirit which is both meek and fiery, comes from that side of the family. We are both calm and passionate – yet never hateful, almost loving to a fault. I learned to embrace my wide hips that I am told were from that side of the family even though I am not quite sure which of my aunts I was compared to. And I gain strength in being a part of the Walker tribe because I fit in and see myself in them. I see just what I can become and it is a place where I am accepted which increases my self-esteem and self-worth. But there is still a hole from my mother's side of the family. I imagine that because the author didn't know his father and his mother was keeping secret her life, he had no place to look and see the compilation of genetics and character that shaped and molded his life.

Like my struggle with my Thomas identity, James McBride and his siblings (all 11 of them) also struggled with their identities. They grew up at a time where civil rights movement events were prominent and struggled to find their places in the fight – though all of them did and they were varied in their opinions and methods of participation. They were bi-racial but by society standards classified as black and had to deal with the changes and injustices in their hometown on so many levels. They were rejected by whites for being black and rejected by blacks for being half-white. My ethnic background is comprised of African-American, White (I don't know the heritage of the white man), and Native American/Indian. This is evident in my physical features, despite clearly and obviously being black, and I happen to be more accepted by people who are not black than my African-American brothers and sisters. Well, that's not entirely accurate – I am more often rejected by African-American sisters since the features I possess that connect me to the white and Indian relatives make me "better" (i.e. long wavy hair, high cheekbones, etc. – and not my word or belief) than other black women. Because I often felt rejected by blacks, I never felt passionate about fighting in support of any black causes. I have never supported injustice of any kind but you won't find me in a crowd of black people with my fist raised screaming in support of black power. Part of that is because I am not really a fighter by nature but there are things that I am passionate about and support to the point of sacrifice that have nothing to do with my black heritage. Fortunately, because of the value Ruth McBride placed on blacks, her black children were encouraged to participate in the fight for civil rights.

The McBride-Jordan children all suffered (or benefitted) from Mommy's search for a place to call home as well as her passions against things that were (and still are) stereotypical crutches. She had strong feelings that Jewish schools were better than other schools, that black people were better friends than white (Jewish) people, and adamantly opposed to welfare and did not accept it despite their needs. These passionate contradictions actually manifested in a more balanced view of humanity in the author. Ruth McBride's strong belief that God would take care of her family and her immense love for her family, was not naïve but admirable. I find strength and encouragement in the belief that Ruth McBride consistently told her children that they were "blessed beyond measure" and I strive for the courage to believe as she did through my personal storms as well.

After I finished the book, I wanted to share the story with the world. I tried to think of everyone who would enjoy it and recommended it to them personally and decided to post a review to encourage others to read it as well.

Ruth McBride passed away in January of this year surrounded by the love of her children and reveling in the "fame" she and her son gained from this marvelously spectacular tribute in print.

Find out more about James McBride (author of Miracle at St Anna and Song Yet Sung as well as The Color of Water) at http://jamesmcbride.com.

Tools to Prevent Child Abuse: Respect

When I talk to parents about my mission to prevent child abuse and further explain that there is a gap in providing children tools for getting out of potentially dangerous (abusive) situations, they listen more intently. Then I say, "Adults don't believe children can get avoid abuse because they are so small." And they challenge me with the same exact response, "Who don't?" The lack of appropriate grammar is based on the emotion behind my opinion – appall and sometimes insult.

Teaching your child to fight, kick, scream, and to tell are a great start to preventing and resolving sexual abuse. However, what it typically produces is disrespectful, angry and violent children rather than equipping them for recognizing and escaping abusive situations. I admit there is a fine line in teaching your children to respect adults and to avoid adults abusing them, but education and modeling respect can go farther than aggressive behavior by itself toward keeping your child safe.

When you check your child's diaper, do you ask permission? It sounds insane to most people when I tell them about a practice from my preschool teaching days of saying, "I am going to check your diaper," or asking, "May I check your diaper?" before you tug it away from their waist and search for waste. But that promotes an expectation of respectful treatment of your child's body. Now, granted you may have a child who will say, "No" (or pull away) when you ask – then you must state your intentions. If that still doesn't work, try giving them choices. If it's appropriate (based on the child's situation and decision-making), you can allow them the option of deciding when you can and cannot check the diaper. If it's not appropriate, give choices that end in the desired result for you. A third option is to explain that they don't have a choice at that time. Most parents I encounter feel that's preposterous. I call it respect.

If your best friend wants to hold your child but s/he does not want to be held or touched by your friend, do you respect that decision? Most parents I encounter decide on their relationship to the person and when it's a close relation, they force the child to go to that friend. Even those who don't force their children into the arms of someone they don't want to go to lightly scold their children for rejecting that person's advances. I suggest honoring your child's decision and encouraging your friend to honor the decision as well. Explain to your child that the person is safe, doesn't want to do any harm, and wants to show love while honoring that decision. When I meet children, relatives or those of friends, I speak to them and ask if I can have a hug. When they say, "No" (or demonstrate opposition) I honor that decision. When their parent insists that they go to me, I tell the child that it is okay not to come to me if that's not what they want. Typically they jump into my arms briefly and then go back to the parent. And then a few minutes later I can't get some of them to release me. I don't suggest that as a formula to get what you want but to encourage you to treat the child with respect. You teach them to trust their own instincts and to reject a touch that they don't want.

Respect – teaching children self-respect and treating them with respect – can go a long way toward equipping a child to avoid uncomfortable situations, run for safety, and avoid inappropriate touches by educating them to know the difference, trust their own instincts, and prevent abuse.

Reading Rainbow as my NYTimes Best Seller List

Butterfly in the sky/I can go twice as high/Take a look, it's in a book, a reading rainbow/I can go anywhere/Friends to know, and ways to grow, a reading rainbow/I can be anything/Take a look, it's in a book, a reading rainbow…a reading rainbow

O.M.G. that was my favorite show and I can still hear the music to the theme song (quoted above). You should hear me sing it! Or maybe it's better that you aren't tortured by my lack of talent.

I used Reading Rainbow as my New York Times Best Seller List – although I don't recall buying many of the books because most of them were picture books and I was reading chapter books and young adult titles. However, the end part of the show had children doing brief reviews of wonderful books and I wrote the titles down as books to check out. The middle of the show involved a wonderfully told story, narrated by a celebrity and was my favorite part. I literally had butterflies in my stomach from the anticipation of the reading of the book and being able to see the pictures on screen – sometimes animated. I remember one about a crocodile in the bayou that had songs and frogs croaking.

Reading Rainbow is no longer on the air (1983-2006) but the good feeling from a show centered entirely on books and reading and storytelling still registers in my mind. It makes me want to curl up in a ball and read a book borrowed from the library – the hardback ones that smell like moldy old pages.

Storytelling

Zora Neale Hurston called it "telling lies" in her novels – based on her Florida research. Daddy called it telling jokes. I call it storytelling.

Annually on Mother's Day we would go back to Daddy's hometown of Corinth, Mississippi for Mother's Day. After church we'd change clothes and Daddy would tell stories about elderly women who couldn't hear well, students who couldn't spell well, and other light-hearted fun times that didn't really happen quite the way the story proclaimed. And everybody would laugh. Daddy and his baby brother had wide grins, deep voices, and high pitched laughs. There were some guffaws from my cousins, mama's wide-toothed open-mouthed laugh that I inherited, and Auntie's famous laugh with the slow squeals that could be heard a mile away. Hands clapped, knees were slapped, and tears from laughter flowed at the stories.

Daddy was a storyteller and told similar stories around the table after Sunday dinners with church members. They looked at me as if I was the most blessed child in the world to have a father like him. The reactions to Daddy's storytelling made an impression on me because it was a skill that was valued highly. Despite all the hardships, known and unknown, I endured in my childhood; everyone felt I was blessed to have a father like him. Now, granted they felt he was the whole package, but it was while he was making people laugh with his stories that they expressed the feeling.

I am a storyteller as well. I love dramatizing a story, creating the buildup, and giving great details that end in howling laughter for me and the listener. The details don't have to be completely accurate – just present. And you never, ever, go back and correct yourself in your story. If you are doing a great job the listener is there with you, in their mind, and any interruption forces them to draw a new picture in their minds and lose track of the story. My storytelling is similar to Daddy's storytelling.

Parents, you have potential storytellers in your home and they will start telling stories the way you tell them. One of my students re-told Robert Munsch's The Paper Bag Princess with a huge focus on the big knocker. Another storyteller recently told a wonderful story about a little boy having lunch that started with the famous line, "Once upon a time," as so many young storytellers use. If you are not a storyteller but you have little storytellers, then read stories to them. Get a variety of stories so that they can begin finding their own voice (not many stories begin with "Once upon a time" in everyday life). Take them to hear storytellers at the library and museums. And of course, remember their own stories and beg your little storyteller to tell you their best original stories over and over and over again.

Frigid, Promiscuous or … Normal?

A college friend of mine once suggested – or ascertained – that women who were sexually abused in their childhoods grew up to be promiscuous or frigid and she put me in one of the categories and herself in the other. I agreed with her in theory but wondered if there were only two categories because I felt I was not accurately categorized but knew it was the better fit of the two choices.

It's accurate that a lot of women who are sexually abused grow up to be promiscuous women for several reasons. Some women feel that's the only way to relate to men (or women) or the best way to get attention. Somehow they convince themselves (or are convinced by abusers or other victims) that their only value is their body. Another reason is that sexual stimulation produces a completely biological response that feels good – so they seek out more of it as self-medication for their feelings of violation and the degradation that abuse evokes. There are countless other reasons but I think those are the most common.

It is also accurate that a lot of women who are sexually abused grow up to be frigid. When sexual abuse occurs it takes a beautiful act of love and cheapens it to something distorted designed to cause pain. Also, when women break the cycle of abuse by learning that they can say, "No" and that they can and should fight against it, they have a harder time saying, "Yes". Some women find it safe to enjoy appropriate sexual relations except for under certain circumstances that remind them of the abusive situations. There may be certain acts they refuse to perform or certain situations they refuse to accept such as the smell of alcohol on their mate's breath or sex in a certain location. I'm sure there are several other reasons victims of abuse become frigid adults.

When I think of other possible categories, one I come up with is that women (and men) who are abused by those of the opposite sex sometimes declare themselves gay. The wonderfully intimate act of sex is used to terrify and control and the thought of appropriate intercourse with a member of the opposite sex is disgusting. Then relating sexually with someone of the same sex is appealing when it occurs with someone who uses sex to express love. Another category is associating certain ethnic groups with the abuse and only entering into romantic relationships with people outside of that group.

And finally, in order to have hope, I have to believe there is yet another category – normal. I have to believe that there are women who are victims of sexual abuse who can relate intimately with abandon with appropriate sexual partners.

Whitehaven Public Library

I will never forget the first time I went to the public library.

Mommy was very excited when I started Kindergarten and we had weekly trips to the school library. She took one look at the book I selected and laughed. I told her that I'd already read it during our hour-long visit and she laughed again. "Why did you choose this book?" she asked me. She returned it to my backpack with instructions to select a more challenging book next time.

The next week she wanted to see my book. This time there was no laughter. "Gina, you are picking books that are too easy. I want you reading books that have more pages and take you longer than an hour to read."

A week later, her disapproval over the book I selected was much more intense. I was reprimanded for choosing the easy picture book and my explanation was met with a drop of mercy. "Mommy," I whined, "I picked the fattest book on the table." We were assigned tables and there were five of us to a table, five books to a table, and that's how we selected our books. My new instructions were to ask the librarian or my teacher to allow me to choose a book from the shelves rather than the easy books on the table.

Finally, I brought home another picture book and the response of the librarian to my request to seek out a more challenging book, which was simply, "No," elicited a look of disbelief on Mommy's face. Immediately we drove to the Whitehaven Public Library.

I walked in the doors of that library and my jaw dropped. I had not ever seen so many books in all my 6 years! (My friends from Memphis – please, remember this was 1982 and my first ever library trip. The Whitehaven Public Library is probably about 600 square feet of limited resources – at least it was around 1994 when I last visited. Well, not really but it's smaller than any other library I've visited since 1990.)

After what felt like hours of waiting to get my library card, I went to the children's section and was just overwhelmed. Mommy suggested that I start with authors who have series so that I can one, figure out my favorite authors and two, know what my next book would be when I went to the library. That advice took me through many summers of reading by an open window with a cool breeze filling the white sheers like a sail and eating granny smith apples.

Thank you Mommy for putting so much interest in my reading abilities and for fostering my love of stories.

Sticks and Stones

It's no secret that sticks and stones may break our bones and that words can kill us. But one thing the parents and other significant adults in our lives don't understand is that those words don't have to be abusive to kill. One of the most lethal phrases I heard as a child was, "Keep your dress down."

Those were the last words I heard before I was molested at my day care center and it left a tiny hole in my resolve that future abusers used to their advantage. Because of the chain of events, a simple phrase like that followed by abuse made way for all abusers who used lines like "You wanted it," and "It's your fault," and "I couldn't control myself when I looked at your…" to keep me silent and taking the abuse.

After seven years of abuse by various people, male and female, I decided that it was okay to get help. When I went to a teacher she said, "You happy now? You got what you wanted." She convinced me that I must have been doing something to make everyone in the world think I wanted it.

At church before I was thirteen years old I heard, "You switching so hard you made me look," and "You sure are wearing that skirt," and "You are built like a woman." And when I became a teenager, I recall being taken in to a room after church for a heart-to-heart. The woman there began arguing with me that I was clamoring over her and clawing my way to being my pastor's mistress. I couldn't even comprehend what she was saying to me.

In junior high school I had a skirt that I loved that was by a brand called Squeeze. The label was on the back of the skirt on a silk tag that was smaller than the cell in an Excel spreadsheet. But I was told that the way I looked in that skirt coupled with the label that was literally giving instructions on what to do, forced him to grab me. I didn't wear that skirt again until I changed schools and then it was the fact that my knees showed and the way I walked up stairs in that skirt that made him lose control.

In high school a teacher witnessed an inappropriate touch by a classmate. When I looked to him to scold the student, the teacher said I had to understand that the student just couldn't resist because it was just right there.

And it all started with a simple, appropriate instruction of "Keep your dress down."

Do I blame her for my abuse? No. But it is still true that those words rang in my head every time I thought I was done with the abuse and for twenty years of my life I believed that the reason I was abused was because I wasn't careful to "keep my dress down" - I was flaunting my diaper/training pants/knees/hips and confusing men into thinking I wanted them to attack me.

Parents, don't assume that your children are too young to understand important conversations about how to keep themselves safe and to know what is and is not appropriate behavior from other people because a lack of life-giving words can kill too.

In Honor of Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday 2010

Although this day is usually spent speaking of the Montgomery Bus Boycott, the Loraine Motel, and Rosa Parks, I was reminded of Coretta Scott King. Since 1970 an award in her name has been annually presented by the Coretta Scott King Committee of the American Library Association's Ethnic Multicultural Information Exchange Round Table. It’s given for the purpose of “encourag(ing) the artistic expression of the African American experience via literature and the graphic arts, including biographical, historical and social history treatments by African American authors and illustrators” of children’s books.

“The books promote understanding and appreciation of the culture of all peoples and their contribution to the realization of the American dream. The Award is further designed to commemorate the life and works of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and to honor Mrs. Coretta Scott King for her courage and determination to continue the work for peace and world brotherhood.”  (American Library Association website: http://www.pla.org/ala/mgrps/rts/emiert/corettascottkingbookawards/corettascott.cfm#)

The Watsons Go to Birmingham—1963 by Christopher Paul Curtis (Delacorte), a Coretta Scott King Author Honor book is my favorite book in this category of recognition. It’s for Grades 5-8 but I first read it in college. It is a fictional work that takes places around the bombing of the church in Birmingham that killed four little girls. I have recommended this book to other African-American readers who were looking for something relevant to read. Believe it or not, learning about your history, a history you never witnessed, can be reaffirming and help you to find your place in society. They walked away from this read feeling the way I did – empowered.

Uncle Jed’s Barbershop, illustrated by James Ransome; text by Margaree King Mitchell (Simon & Schuster), a Coretta Scott King Illustrator Honor book (1994) is my favorite picture book in this category of award. I was a college graduate the first time I read this one, determined to build up a library of books for my own children and for my students. It reminds me of being a little girl who had strong relationships with older men who have stories that I both needed and wanted to hear.

Pick the right tunes

A friend of mine, a new mother, wanted a soundtrack to her daughter's first birthday party. Her birthday was in winter and she was having nearly 20 children ages birth to ten! I thought that was insane! But it was her daughter's first birthday and the children were all family. So I assumed there would be hardly any liability and their parents wouldn't abandon their children, using the party for babysitting purposes. And since she was so excited about it, I didn't want to be Debbie Downer.

She asked me about music and I asked her what she wanted the music to do. I know that soft music keeps children calm but it was still a party. So I suggested Motown music and gave her my kiddie Motown CD, Motown Dances, to play only for an energetic activity like a dance contest. That CD had come in handy during rainy days when the children had cabin fever - or were going stir crazy.

After the party when she returned the CD I asked her how she used the music. She intended to have a dance contest but it didn't really work out the way she'd hoped. There wasn't very much order to the party because the children didn't really comply. So she tried it as background music but it made the children want to be louder than the music and gave them too much energy.

So even though I would be tempted to recommend lullabies, I think something along the lines of Neo-Soul (sounds like John Legend, Musiq Soulchild, India.Arie, or Lisa McClendon), Pop (think Adele or Corinne Bailey Rae), or something jazzy (try Ella Fitzgerald, Melody Gardot, and Cannonball Adderley). Select music you enjoy and feel comfortable with the children singing the lyrics. The musicians selected above have albums that are rather upbeat without heavy bass, without uber fast tempos, and they are artists with smooth vocals (or are instrumental) which make for a happy medium.