Listen to the Shadows

Seizing a Moment of Darkness to Realize a Brighter Future

In recent months we have been confronted with the pervasiveness of a disease that we have allowed to propagate for centuries, silently metastasizing in the minds of our most beloved artists, poisoning the hands of our most revered leaders, and infecting the souls of those we believed we knew best. For many, this epidemic has never been a secret — they have watched it spread daily, encroaching upon their safety, their power, and their identity. For others, ignorant of its multiplication or immune to its consequences, this year’s headlines have come as a shock. Still others, sick themselves, are unable to see the devastation for what it is — the shadows cast by an empire of abuse.

For generations, this immoral and discriminatory system has been incontestable. Powerful individuals have simply side-stepped serious allegations brought against them, and victims of abuse have been ignored or silenced. Last November, when the American people elected a President known to be a sexual predator, it seemed injustice was to be overlooked for good— abuse had become normalized, even excusable. However, scores of brave individuals have chosen this unlikely moment to share their stories of abuse, exposing rampant corruption and inciting a moment, long overdue, in which we must confront evil or allow our children to become its next victims — or worse, its perpetrators.

Addressing the subject of abuse is daunting because so many people have suffered abuse in their lifetime and it is impossible to represent the complexity and nuance of everyone’s experience. To complicate the matter, our society has a variety of misconceptions about the nature of abuse (Who really bears the responsibility, and how should we respond when it occurs?). Moreover, abuse is symptomatic of a deeper cultural issue, a destructive manner of thinking, which, along with its many other manifestations, is rarely addressed. Finally, most discussions of abuse conclude without any real solutions being offered. We are obligated, however, despite these challenges, to address this issue with empathy and determination because our sisters and our brothers are pleading for justice, for change, for honor.

I will not pretend that I can understand all the complexities of this issue; nor will I attempt to speak for those who have experienced sexual abuse or harassment because I never have. I am a young Caucasian man, privileged by virtue of my sex and ethnicity and never formally educated about social oppression. I refuse to dishonor those who have suffered by acting as though I can relate or thoroughly comprehend their pain. However, I fear for those in my life who have less privilege and power than I have, and I fear because I know how it feels for a man to profane my body with his hands and disparage my person-hood with his words.

As a defenseless nine-year-old, I placed my faith in a man, an authority figure responsible for my well-being, who did not have my best interests in mind. He was our family dentist, a Christian man respected by my parents and by many others in our community. I especially respected him because I knew he gave my family free dental care — a blessing for a low-income family with no dental insurance. Sitting in the patient’s chair preparing to have a cavity filled, I made a simple request: “I’m claustrophobic. Can I please have some breathers every once-in-a-while?” My dentist agreed and went to work. Lying back in the chair with his drill showering grit everywhere and his spray tool shooting a stream of water down my throat, I felt like I was drowning. I raised my hand to alert him that I needed a break. Instead of allowing me to sit forward and swallow the grainy water rising in my esophagus, he told me to put my hand down and breathe through my nose. Panicked, I pulled his smothering hand and his cold instruments out of my mouth and sat upright in the chair. What ensued was a display of aggression I will never forget. He clapped his hand over my mouth, pushed me down into the chair, and repeated his stern command to breathe through my nose. Scared and betrayed, I tried to sit forward again, but his hand was like a wall built on top of me, holding me under the water. I began kicking desperately and screaming wildly for help. He fastened his enormous hands around my arms and used all the strength in his 250 pound body to wrestle me back into the chair. Hopelessly overpowered and convinced I was going to die, I lost control and drenched my jeans in urine.

By the time my mother made her way back to my stall from the waiting room, I had managed to writhe my way out of the chair, but the dentist had his hand clamped to my jaw, shaking me violently and yelling accusations in my face. My mom ordered him to stop, but he wouldn’t release me. He kept threatening to carry me to his office and “finish it.” I truly believed I would not leave the building alive. My mother had to remove his hands from my body because he wouldn’t let go. When she confronted him, he began blaming me, calling me a “disobedient boy” who “doesn’t listen.” Though my mother protested, arguing that I was a submissive child, he said that we must “agree to disagree.” Then, my mom marched me and my siblings out of the office, tears running down her cheeks and a grown man’s hand-prints impressed on my face.

As a result of the trauma, I developed severe OCD and a debilitating eating disorder and spent the next three years drifting from institution to institution being treated by the world’s finest doctors, none of whom could treat the real issue: a lingering sense of fear and insecurity. I was changed forever.

It is not my intention to equivocate my experience with the experience of sexual abuse victims. Nonetheless, my encounter with my dentist serves as the framework from which I approach this cultural issue because the tactics of abuse are always the same — use your power or reputation to establish a mirage of trustworthiness, choose a victim who is vulnerable and less powerful, place the responsibility on your victim to protect yourself.

For those who have never experienced abuse, it may seem that I am exaggerating or crafting an argument designed to vilify those who misuse their power. The abuse process I have described may seem too calculated and heinous to be believable. Allow me to say, as graciously as possible, that if you have never been abused, preyed upon, or exploited, then you cannot understand. I am not suggesting that all abuse is premeditated or that a perpetrator’s entire life is always devoted to ensnaring his victims. I do not believe that my dentist provided my family with free dental care to deceive us. However, the abusive behavior he demonstrated that day was not an isolated incident — he knew what he was capable of. He offered free service to poorer customers and had Bible verses painted on the ceiling tiles in his office to establish a persona that wasn’t entirely accurate. I do not believe he began his work day with intent to harm someone or that he chose me through some kind of selection process to be his victim. Rather, I think his behavior was an inappropriate response to frustration and pent-up anger. However, he treated me the way he did because he was able to, because there was nothing I could do about it. I strongly doubt he would have acted so aggressively toward an adult male patient. I also doubt that he believed I was disobedient — he could see that I was acting out of fear. He needed to accuse me of disrespect and defiance to shift the responsibility for his actions. If I was misbehaving and he was simply enforcing discipline, then I was to blame. Suddenly, I am not the victim but the instigator. That’s how abuse works.

I need to reiterate that I am using my story to illustrate a concept, not to represent everyone’s experience. I truly believe that my dentist is a well-intentioned man with a serious anger problem and an incriminating history of abusive behavior that he needs to hide. However, many people suffer at the hands of truly evil men, men who are predators, men who have developed entire networks of deception, men who use their power to manipulate. Abuse is villainous, and instead of debating it because it sounds too bad to be true or pardoning it because someone has an excuse, we must call it what it is and commit to eradicating it.

Earlier, I referred to the abusive mindset as a “sickness” and a “disease.” I use these terms cautiously because they could be used to excuse predators or rationalize abusive behavior. Offenders are not ill or infected in the sense that they lose control over their thoughts or actions — abuse is always volitional and always criminal. I chose to use the language of impoverished health because sickness is a corruption of what is normal and right — a corruption carried so far and executed so thoroughly that it erases memory of what is natural and becomes normalized itself. This has happened in our society. We have succumbed to a mindset that makes us comfortable with treating women unfairly, tolerating abuse, and blaming victims. This mindset is like a virus that has hijacked our conscious, replacing logic and morals with senselessness and complacency. This kind of thinking has given predators license to exploit their victims, and it has made the rest of us complicit in abuse. In this way we are sick: not that we cannot think for ourselves, but that we have forgotten how to think correctly. We must combat our diseased thinking without using it as an excuse for criminal behavior.

So what is this toxic mindset that has overtaken our culture? What are the lies and assumptions that we must dismantle to be healthy again? What broken philosophy prevents us from upholding the honor and sanctity of every individual? As I said before, fighting abuse is complicated by the fact that so many people misunderstand it. One of the most troubling misconceptions is the idea that victims somehow carry responsibility for their abuse. It seems that every time a woman reports having experienced harassment or assault, people’s first instinct is to ask what she was wearing or if she was drunk, as if her clothing or level of alcohol consumption give an assailant permission to exploit her. I understand the need to uncover any behavior that could have been misinterpreted as consent; however, these are poor questions because they address a victim’s condition independent of her abuser rather than her interaction with him. A better question would be: “Could any of your actions have been misunderstood?” Instead of supposing that a women’s attire or alcohol consumption precipitate her abuse, this question supposes that any misjudgment could only have come from a personal interaction with an alleged abuser. This question also gives the victim the opportunity to defend her behavior, whereas the other questions require that she give a one-word answer and remain at the mercy of the jury. It may seem that I am splitting hairs, but the questions we ask carry significance — they can give women power or take it away.

Asking bad questions, combined with the cultural tendency to challenge the victim’s testimony first, heaps shame upon women by calling their integrity into question when all they are seeking is justice. These demeaning responses reveal that we are predisposed to blame the victim. This must end. It is time for our society and our justice system to accept a governing truth: abuse is NEVER the victim’s fault. Men are always obligated to treat women with dignity and respect, regardless of a woman’s condition. Those in power always have the responsibility to treat the powerless with honor and equity, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, or personal convictions. Moreover, when powerful, privileged individuals fail to meet this obligation, the fault rests entirely upon them. No one has ever asked me if perhaps I behaved a little irrationally or disrespectfully in the dentist office that day. No one has ever dared to suggest that I am responsible for my abuse because I didn’t obey the instructions I was given. It would be unthinkable to blame a nine-year-old child for the abusive actions of an older man. Why is it not equally intolerable to blame a women for her abuse?

Before moving on, allow me to clarify my argument. I think it is necessary to acknowledge that everyone is responsible for the way he/she chooses to present himself/herself. We must also recognize that the way in which we choose to present ourselves communicates a message about how we want to be perceived. Any person who uses social media knows this. We curate photographs and text to present a certain image to the world because we are extremely conscious of how we want to be viewed. We understand that we are able to influence the way other people think about us. This awareness affects how we choose to dress and how we choose to behave. We may speak in a casual manner and maintain a relaxed posture in order to appear relate-able or approachable. We may choose to wear expensive clothing to display wealth. We may choose to dress provocatively to be seen as “hot” or “sexy.” (Allow me to clarify even further and say that wanting people to think you’re sexy is not the same as wanting to be objectified. No one ever wants to be exploited, regardless of how he or she is dressed. If you misinterpret someone’s appearance as an invitation for unsolicited sexual contact, then the fault lies with you.) No matter how we wish to look or behave, we are responsible for the image we choose to present. As a Christian, I believe the Bible instructs women to dress and behave modestly, a principle that applies to men as well. I also believe the Bible charges men to treat women with honor and respect. These two commands are not contingent upon one another. This means that God expects men to esteem women whether they choose to dress modestly or not. God does not tolerate abuse under any circumstances. What I am trying to illustrate is that our personal responsibility to present ourselves appropriately does not diminish or negate another person’s responsibility to treat us with respect. No matter how an individual chooses to behave, he/she deserves respect.

Another harmful misconception is the notion that consent always means willfulness. Often, women choose to participate in unwanted sexual activity because they are made to feel they have no other choice. This happens when corrupt men manipulate women into giving away their bodies by threatening their safety, their career, their reputation, or anything else of value these women may possess. This can also happen when a man chooses to withhold something a woman has worked for — a raise, a promotion, an opportunity. In these instances, women are forced to trade their dignity, their purity, and their innocence in order to preserve themselves. This is abuse. Choosing to comply with abusive demands because you are given no other option does not count as consent, and it does not make a woman complicit in her abuse. New York Times best-selling author Ann Voskamp writes, “Consent isn’t so much about an equal sense of permission as consent depends on the equal distribution of power — or there’s [an] intolerable violation of rights.” If a woman is not given the power or the permission to say ‘no,’ then she has been stripped of her human rights and is just as much a victim as those who choose to resist. She is not to blame, and her abuser is not “off the hook.” Sadly, our culture has chosen to belittle these women and abandon their cause. Our courts have allowed sexual predators to walk free simply because they coerced their victims into giving verbal consent. This is not justice — true justice is given to all who are oppressed, whether they are able to fight their abuse or not.

A final misconception I must address is the belief that a delayed report or accusation lacks validity. As stories of abuse and harassment began surfacing early last fall implicating some of the most powerful men in our society, many of the individuals making these allegations where challenged as to why they had waited so long to report their abuse. A simple awareness of abuse statistics would have squelched this unfair inquiry. According to the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN), there are many reasons victims remain silent including fear of retaliation, the belief that the police will not or cannot help, and the feeling that their experience is not important enough to report. Additionally, our justice system has disincentivized reporting sexual abuse because it has failed to punish predators. Only 6 out of every 1000 rapists will be incarcerated (RAINN). This is partially due to the fact that most sexual violence goes unreported — out of 1000 rapes, it is estimated that only 310 are reported. However, out of these 310 reports, only 57 lead to arrest. Only 11 of the perpetrators will be taken to trial, and only 7 will be convicted. This means that only about 2% of accused rapists will be imprisoned (RAINN). Victims are not motivated to report their abuse and face public humiliation when they are not guaranteed justice. The brave individuals who have recently shared their stories of abuse have done so in spite of great opposition and often after years of being silenced. Rather than being interrogated, they should be applauded for their courage and supported as they pursue the redress they deserve.

In addition to correcting these gross misconceptions, I must address the fundamental flaw in our cultural mindset: a lack of respect for human life. At the heart of all abuse is the failure of an aggressor to acknowledge the individual worth of another human being. However, offenders inherit their defective value system from a society that consistently undermines the worth of its citizens, particularly its female citizens. This happens in a variety of ways. Pornography and misogynistic entertainment reduce women to sexual objects as a means of satisfying the lustful fantasies of unconscionable audiences. Pay inequality undermines the capability of women and the contributions they make to society. Unequal representation deprives women of opportunity and discourages a young generation of girls who aspire to a brighter future. Unenforced laws and conduct policies fail to protect women and instead communicate that their well-being is unimportant. Furthermore, these cultural norms teach men and boys how to treat women with disrespect. Because boys are able to consume an unlimited amount of pornography online, they learn to use women to fulfill their sexual desires. Because women are unfairly compensated, men learn that they can extort the labor and creative energy of their female colleagues. Because women are significantly under-represented in most professions, men learn to neglect female perspectives and pass over women looking for greater opportunities in the workforce. Because there are no consequences for inappropriate behavior, men learn that they may treat women however they like without personal loss. Ultimately, these social trends lead to abuse because they communicate to the male population that women are of lesser value. This destructive mindset is the root of our culture of abuse, and nothing will change until we reorient our thinking.

Once we have identified and corrected our flawed cultural mindset, we must develop and enact solutions that will realize change. Until recently, most conversations regarding sexual abuse have resulted in little action. If we are ever to live in a safer, more wholesome world, we must begin remaking our society. As I said earlier, I do not claim to understand our culture of abuse perfectly. I am no expert in legal reform or social advocacy. However, I believe there are simple steps that can be taken to begin healing our diseased culture. Organizations like Time’s Up and Lean In are making an enormous impact by developing strategies to combat harassment and abuse, providing resources to empower women, and educating the public about social equality. To find out more about what these organizations are doing, look here and here.

Most importantly, we can create change by raising our children responsibly. Parents can end the generational cycle of abuse and inequality by teaching their children to respect all people. Instead of using misogynistic language and teaching sexual prowess, fathers must show their sons how to honor women with their words and their behavior. Instead of establishing a male-female hierarchy of value in the home, fathers and mothers must demonstrate how to work in unison by respecting everyone’s contribution and perspective. Instead of surrounding their children with other kids of the same ethnicity/culture/class, parents must foster a love for all kinds of people by encouraging their children to interact with a diverse group of peers. By instilling these important values at home, parents can begin dismantling our abusive empire.

Finally, we must bolster one another’s courage and cling to the promise of hope. Hope for a brighter future does exist — we have reached the critical moment, and there is no turning back. The possibility of personal healing is even more real. After being abused by my dentist and enduring OCD and a life-threatening eating disorder for three years, I finally found the hope I was desperately seeking. I realized that I did not have to be defined by my abuse or by my resulting illness. I discovered that I could live with confidence because Jesus has secured my worth by dying for me and no evil man can ever diminish my value. The Bible says in II Corinthians 5:17, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”

I am no longer chained to the past — I do not lie awake in the night-time shadows tortured by the demons of abuse. I sleep sweetly, dreaming of the bright, promising future where we will all awake standing side by side, and under our feet, the flowering ruins of a toppled empire.