Image by STORM at stormantic.com
This week I spent about four hours trying to put together a story about domestic violence, only to scrap the whole project in its finality. Very rarely do I scrap a story like that. The story and my unsuccessful experience trying to tell it has left me quite unsettled.
The story has stuck to my psyche, and may be the reason why I have gotten physically ill this week. These notes are less about trying to tell the story than it is an unattempt to unravel the snarled mess in my psyche.
A longtime friend introduced me to the woman who seeks to share her story of psychological and emotional abuse endured in a decade of marriage, in hopes of raising awareness of domestic violence. Throughout the 1o years they were together, the woman’s husband allegedly belittled and criticized her, and ridiculed a career she had as a performance artist before having several children with him. The husband allegedly stepped on her bare feet with work boots, threw her violently onto their bed, and made gestures like he was going to hit her. When she flinched, the husband was said to have taunted her for being a “drama queen.” She said whenever she left the house, he would accuse her of being an adulteress upon her return. If the woman was outside to take the trash to the end of the driveway and a man drove or rode by, the husband would accuse the passerby of being her lover.
After the woman told me her story, I contacted her husband for a rebuttal. The man had his home phone disconnected and quit his job, but I left a message with his former employer in hopes he would get word I was trying to get a hold of him. He responded within a few hours of my deadline. I tried to stay as emotionless as possible, reciting in monotone the accusations, one by one.
I asked the man why he went to a recent domestic violence rally in Hilo, dressed up as “Captain ATV.” For “team spirit,” he responded. “What you have to understand is I have been forced to go to ATV classes because she is lying, and it’s very hard for me to take the whole thing seriously.”
I asked why as a Catholic he wore a Jewish yamacha during Family Court proceedings. “It reminds me there is a greater power above me. I wear it from time to time when it behooves me.”
I typed out his responses to my questions, word for word, trying hard not to react, no matter how seemingly incendiary the words:
“Why did she stick around for 10 years? I can tell you what really happened in the situation, if you want to hear it: — never learned self-esteem other than through her performances. She was raised abusively, by her mother. Her mother had CPS called on her more than once by a family friend. She was molested, raped, and by the time I found her she was pretty much a mess. I took over for her drug-addict husband 10 years ago and raised her handicapped child. Now that she has reached her mid-life crisis she suddenly desires a need for attention and to perform and to shirk off her responsibilities as a mother. She came to me last March, told me she didn’t want to be a mother anymore, that she was leaving our marriage and that she wanted me to have the children. March 30th of last year, she attacked me for the second time that week, I called the police and she was put in jail. After she was put in jail, I got a restraining order to protect myself and children, moved us to another house, and raised the children for two months. When she was done being a hippie at — she got an attorney and took my children,” he said, adding that his estranged wife is currently seeing a psychiatrist. “I would be more than happy to raise and support those children myself, if she would just go away.”
After that last sentence, I said, I’ll be sure to write that down in case something happens to her. He laughed, “Nothing is going to happen to her. I just don’t want to have anything to do with her.”
Then he accused of me being biased. I said it wasn’t a matter of me being biased — It is not up to me to decipher the truth in the two of the sides of their story. My only concern is the couple has four children who are having to endure their parents drama-trauma. They are either going to grow up to either be productive citizens or they are going to be sociopaths who act as menaces in society. He agreed with point of view, but blamed whatever problems his children might have on his wife, exposing them to a liberal way of life. He claimed she left him to go live in a “commune.” I clarified, based on first-hand experience having lived there for a time myself, that his wife went to a live in a performing arts community, not a commune. ”Oh! You must be a dope smoker then,” he said. No, this is not about me, and A + B does not equal D, I responded.
Then, the guy attacked the character of my friend who had referred me to the woman and her story to begin with. He asked that I include in my story his challenge to that friend of mine and two other men I know to be associated with the performing arts community to “a three-on-one brawl.” Note: the performing arts community has a restraining order against the man.
The man then expressed his disdain for “hippies.” I asked why he doesn’t go back to California, where people predominantly wear Gap and live like yuppies.
“Well, that’s not me either,” he responded. I suggested he shouldn’t be living in Puna, known to be where a lot of hippies reside, being one of the last affordable places in one of the most diverse counties in the United States. “Diverse it is,” he laughed.
“Do you want to meet in person to discuss this,” he asked me.
I couldn’t help being honest. No, actually, I don’t, I said. Then he was obviously mad. ”You sound like you don’t have a man in your life,” he said, disdainfully. No, I’m happily married, and I think my husband is awesome. ”It sounds to me like you don’t have a man in your life,” he repeated with sheer contempt, before hanging up on me.
I called the editor I was writing the story for, and told him about the conflicted conversation I had with the man. He asked if the man has been convicted of domestic violence. The man hasn’t, he has multiple restraining orders placed against him. The editor preferred to air on the conservative side and chose not to run the story.
I thought about publishing the story on my blog but, after much contemplation, I have decided against it.
Something in my gut tells me this is a potentially volatile situation and I do not want to add any more fuel to the fire. Notice that, in telling you components of the story here, I have not named names. I did that on purpose, less for the man or the woman than for the couple’s children. I hope that they overcome whatever troubles either one or both of their parents created for them. The children shouldn’t have to Google their names down the line and come across my account of interacting with their parents.
All week long I’ve been feeling very disburbed by my interaction with the woman’s husband. It was evident that he could not stand my strong will. That’s why, at the end of our conversation, he tried to attack me by suggesting I didn’t have a man. I guess, in his mind, I couldn’t be strong-willed and have a husband at the same time; husbands are supposed to stamp the will out of women, turn them into dish rags, if you will. Actually, to be fair, I realize there are women abusers, but I don’t think that is the case here.
I used to work as a cops and courts reporter on the mainland for a newspaper that made a conscious effort to help curb domestic violence by publishing news of every police report associated with it. I was the one tasked with the domestic violence reports based on the reports I collected from the police department. Aside from writing countless stories and briefs, I witnessed domestic violence firsthand as a child: my mother was in an abusive relationship for nine years.
I saw my mother lose teeth and hair in fights with her boyfriend. I was the one who called the police or ran for help if the phone line was pulled from the wall. I retreated with my mother to a domestic shelter a time or two to get away from her boyfriend.
Although I was nine when my mother finally came to her senses and decided not to let the guy back into our house after he was jailed, the restraining order she had against him stayed in my school records until I graduated from high school. I know this having read through my records upon my high school graduation at 18.
So, I guess more unsettling than the story itself was that the man could decipher my inability to be wholly objective in my reporting. My bias was in favor of the couple’s children, who will have the task I had of overcoming a traumatic childhood and finding normalcy in adulthood.
Thankfully, I have found a man to love who doesn’t suffer from a complex where he has to put me down to boost his own self-esteem. It took some therapy; my mother showing me the movie, “The Burning Bed,” as she preached for me not to fall in the trap she fell in to; a positive relationship with my father; and a bad dating experience with a guy named Mick, who broke up with me for being “too strong-willed and independent.”
This week I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to think of what we as a community can do to help curtail the commonality of domestic violence.
The City and County of Honolulu plans as a pilot project to post on the Internet the names and photographs of those charged with driving under the influence. Why not post the names and photographs of those charged with domestic violence? I guess in this case the woman would have been wrongfully named and photographed, since she was initially arrested and the charge later dropped.
Maybe the Prosecuting Attorney would consider naming and photographing those convicted of domestic violence. Seems to me that publicly shaming the convicted abuser might prove to be effective. The problem in naming the abuser is that if he or she has children, they risk being stigmatized for the parent’s bad behavior.
At this point, I’m really at a loss for the ultimate solution. We need to have a public conversation about domestic violence. All I know is that each of us needs to understand that, married or not, we do not have the right to impose our will onto another. The impetus is on each of us to withhold judgment and criticism and to respect each other’s humanness.
If you are one of those Christians who tries to justify abuse by referring to Scriptures, let me remind you that, at the same time a verse in the Bible calls for wives to “submit to your husbands,” another verse calls for husbands to “love their wives as their own bodies.”
“He who loves his wife loves himself,” says the Good Book.
Sometimes, in an act of self-love, an unhealthy relationship must end. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, there’s that Scripture that says “til death do us part.” But I don’t think it means killing each other to end a marriage. I think God applauds partners who admit they have incorrigible differences and end a bad relationship.
God smiles on those people who, despite their incompatibility, for the sake of their children work together to co-parent. Regardless of what became of the relationship, once upon a time you loved each other enough to make a baby. Try to remember that fact when you work out your custody arrangement. Your children, and your greater community, will thank you for it.
November 22nd, 2009 at 4:40 am
I can understand your hesitation on running the story. Good for you listening to your gut.
You bring up an interesting topic about the church and domestic violence. I had no idea they were so ignorant on this issue, until I faced it myself. That may be a story worth looking into! The dangerous advice that is given out, and how you hear most people tell you, ‘NOT in MY CHURCH!”. I personally felt betrayed by the church, and knew they totally missed the spirit of scripture behind the bible they claim they read better than I do. Sigh.
Reverend Al Miles is in HI. He has something interesting stories to tell about how creative pastors can get to avoid dealing with this issue. There is a good lead for you!
Blessings to you and yours!
November 22nd, 2009 at 8:26 am
I am speechlees about your personal story…..and it makes me love and cherish my nieces even more.
The prosecutorial investigations and sentencing are not adequate. I know of individuals, as a facilitator who worked with a EPIC in consultation with Child Welfare Services, who had 10 to 20 cases of “abuse of a family member” against them and never did any extended jail or prison time. These cases were not all convictions but arrests but the “handling” of these cases were not handled properly. From personal experience locally, it did not seem as if there was a priority on these and other violent crime cases and it seemed that some of the prosecutors and social workers would be charmed by the abusers, just roll their eyes, smile, and take it as par for the course with these “families.” Giving it a wink and nod. The social workers who took it “too seriously” were considered uptight. My professional experience in this area took place years ago and things may have changed but at the time it was what it was. And I was as guilty as anyone else because I admit I took it as the norm also with these “families.” I had grown up in a family where no male figure in my family would lay a finger on a female.
My feelings changed later when I became a business owner and a few of my female employees and even customers had to be protected by their abusers and I ended up going the other way because 1) I had control of the environment and 2) I need to set an example as a leader. Than it was me fustrated by the lack of a response and what I considered protection of the abused and a conclusion that it is just not right.
November 26th, 2009 at 8:17 am
Let the record reflect the man accused of domestic violence stopped by my place of business last weekend. He took no interest in shopping for a tee shirt or board shorts. He told the girl working there he was “new in town” and wanted to know what there was to do in Puna. Then he asked if she was “Tiffany.” He asked her to relay a message to me that he stopped by to say “hi.” The next day the girl happened upon him at Maku’u Market and he made a point to ask her if she had given me the message. Clearly, the man wanted to send a message to me that he found out I do have a man and who my man is and he knows where to find us. If anyone reading this knows this man that I am referring to, tell the man that the next time he shows up at my business it better to be to buy something — otherwise, he is going to be told he and his creepy vibe are not welcome. For a man who ended our phone conversation by hanging up on me saying it sounded like I don’t have a man to be seeking me out at my place of business is deeply concerning and won’t be taken lightly. I can think of no other reasons for him to be seeking me out than to harass me and/or reassure me that he is a nice guy who didn’t try to run over his wife after she fled from him.
The man should steer clear of me, because I’m not going to tolerate his attempt to intimidate me.
The girl who works for me described him as a tall, clean cut guy with a balding bowl cut who clearly doesn’t fit in Puna. If anyone reading this who is acquainted with the man and has a picture of him, please email me at newswoman@mac.com.
November 29th, 2009 at 8:38 pm
[...] up for my shift at the surf shop found a post-it note letting me know the man I blogged about in my “Notes On Domestic Violence” had stopped by to say “hi.” If you read that blog entry, you can imagine how disconcerting it [...]
November 30th, 2009 at 11:18 am
[...] to arrive to take a statement from me, I’m going to write out some notes. I told you about the guy accused of domestic violence. I also told you about how, after he hung up the phone on me, he stopped by the shop and left a [...]
April 1st, 2010 at 6:24 am
[...] i.e., me. I’ve had a couple of negative experiences that stand out — namely involving Captain ATV and the meat guy. In both cases, police were called and, in the former case, a harassment case is [...]