Protecting our children

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“The water is so clear today. The scattered surfers are protected by their full-length wet suits. I so admire the surfers out there in the frigid waters bobbing up and down void of fear. I can swim in my mind back stroke to a time when each of my children played on this beach, their fortitude and very being providing me with inspiration. I am suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. It is a privilege to be a parent, having a hand in the miracle of bearing and raising children.

Yet this miracle also brings responsibility. As parents, what can we do to prepare our children for the cruelty that exists? We zip our children into a proverbial full-body wet suit lined with life’s eruditions, a neoprene triple-layer of fabric to ward of hypothermia, scrapes, and snares. We smear UV70 sunblock across their faces, hands, and feet as if our mere touch and each application will prevent the ruthless incursion of any future cancer.

I can no more imagine one of my children experiencing violence than I can orbit the moon. I hear myself thinking things such as, “Over my dead body,” or “I’d kill the person who lays a finger on any one of them.” But all that bravado gives way to an utterance, a borderline beseeching that re-states how I can handle it: Send the tough stuff to me…please keep them safe…let them be strong from all that they do, not what they endure.

Protect, safeguard, shelter, save, harbor—yet in the long run protection is not enough. We can’t just keep our children in a bubble. We need to build their strengths, sharpen their tools, let them own their triumphs as well as their mistakes. We need to help them understand the gravity of their words and actions before they hurt another person. We need to raise them to be good people, strong people, contributing people, and all that potential is predicated upon their own self-confidence. For in due course, we must open our hands in a wave, catch our breath as these independent creatures slip into the world’s water. We find ourselves praying silently that this child of ours has what it takes to navigate safely.”

—An excerpt from Tornado Warning, A Memoir of Teen Dating Violence and Its Effect on a Woman’s Life

Elin Stebbins Waldal, Sound Beach Publishing

Video Reading by Elin set to photos taken of her own children:

The Climb

I can almost see it
That dream I am dreaming
But there’s a voice inside my head saying
“You’ll never reach it”

Every step I’m taking
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high

There’s always gonna be another mountain
I’m always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose

Ain’t about how fast I get there
Ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side
It’s the climb–MileyCyrus

If you have ever climbed a mountain–and in particular a 14er–then you are no doubt familiar with what climbers refer to as a false summit…where one has hiked for hours all while thinking their “destination” is within reach only to discover looming above them in the distance is the true mountain top, the height of the summit, all 14 thousand feet of it–and in that moment it may feel insurmountable. And yet.

And yet you can taste it, in your minds eye you imagine yourself with a 360 degree view and a USGS stamp pronouncing that you have arrived. This vision pumps through your veins and you know that despite the voice in your head proclaiming “you will never reach it,” regardless of the fatigue that may be leaching into your feet, there is a greater thought which will pull you forward, the dream you are working for, the goal you have set and you know you will in fact reach the summit if only you continue to climb.

The beginning of 2012 for me was a series of false summits. It seemed as if every time a goal was within reach I would soon discover that despite being above timberline there were still miles ahead left to trek and the ever elusive goals I had set began to cast an ominous shadow of doubt over me.

When doubt wraps itself around me like an unwanted wet cold blanket…sometimes I forget that only I can cast it to the side and seek warmth and clarity. During what thankfully was a temporary loss of judgement…I granted power to my fears which, much like a mounting storm, grew.

Somewhere along the way–despite the chattering teeth and quaking from the cold my body leaned into–I managed to cast the water logged cloak of apprehension to the side and re-frame my thoughts on a different set of truths.

This much I did know–that which I give power–gets it. In that pool of lightness it is far easier to discover that truly it is all about “the climb.”

Whether standing at the base of a mountain or the summit, the view and that which surrounds me, is what I make of it and turning my dreams into tangible outcomes requires me to continue to step forward. Taking time out to be in the moment, feel, be, allows me to take care of myself and focus.

Truly there is so much more than the summit–working toward a goal has a series of wins and celebrating them makes each 360 degree view I arrive at all the richer.

Sometimes I wish

Mar, 29 2012
By elinstebbinswaldal
Blog, Parenting, Women's Issues, Writing
2 comments

i carry your heart

here is the deepest secret nobody knows(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

Friendship which endures, does so, not out of some Hallmark version of loyalty, it endures because it does not shrink from the difficult, it does not reserve itself for good days only…enduring friendship knows no limits.

“Sometimes, I just wish I was someone different who shared that link. Who is my friend, but doesn’t seem to know how much it means to me and my family to help us. Who doesn’t seem to know how much we need you. I am so tired. Please help, please do something. Oh. And, to be a friend. This is a lifetime commitment. My pain will not go away. It will not get easier. I will need you, as my friend, for as long as I live.”

As I read those words posted on the Facebook timeline of a friend who I met because of what we share in common–we both know the affect that abuse in a relationship can have. Our difference? Her daughter is buried and I am alive. I need you to know I love this woman in a way I find difficult to express, but what I can articulate is this: it is as she is, pain and all. I hope and pray I never know the anguish she suffers first hand. I may not be able to take her pain away but acknowledging her pain without expectation or judgement is a way I may remain present for her.

“Sometimes I just wish…” she muses… “I was someone different who shared that link…” A link which if you clicked on it would show her courage, her mission, her intention. I want you to know she works endlessly so that no one has to experience her pain first hand. My friend shares her daughters story to ensure that no other parent has to live with an absence which will never ever end. My friend shares her daughters story to prevent another teenager from losing their life at the hands of someone who claims to love them.

My friend shares her daughters story and in that sharing her daughter lives on…perhaps not as you or I do…but she makes her way into your heart…I know, because she is in mine and I carry her in my heart.

Parents whose children die don’t “get over it” they don’t “move-on” they will never be the same. They move forward in time with their memories, their regrets, their devotion, their endless loss…their love. Don’t shrink from them, love them as they are…

Where do we go from here: a look at The Grammy’s and the music collaboration between Rihanna and Chris Brown

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Many people are focused on the collaboration between Chris Brown and Rihanna—but for a moment I would like to step back in time and redirect our attention to the underlying message which was sent when the decision was made to spotlight Chris Brown at The Grammy’s.

Ken Ehrlich—the Executive producer of The Grammy’s said the following when he was interviewed by ABC about the decision to bring Chris Brown to the stage:

“I think people deserve a second chance, you know,” Ehrlich said. “If you’ll note, he has not been on the Grammy’s for the past
few years and it may have taken us a while to kind of get over the fact that we were the victim of what happened.” He went on to say that “what (Brown has) done to reclaim his career and seemingly the kind of person that he has become makes him — I don’t even want to use the word eligible — but you know, it’s time.”

…and here all along I thought Rihanna was the victim of what Brown had done…

The aforementioned decision placed Chris Brown on a platform that would reach 39 million viewers.
—39 MILLION VIEWERS—
In his own words Ken Ehrlich feels Chris Brown deserves a second chance. That decision was in part made (according to the article) because Rihanna said this:

“It’s incredible to see how he pulled out of it the way he did … I really like the music he’s putting out … I’ve always been a fan … I’m really excited to see the breakthrough he’s had in his career. I would never wish anything horrible for him … I never have.”—Rihanna

Here’s one of the problems…by choosing to place Chris Brown on a stage viewed by 39 million people the message The Grammy’s sent in part was this: “It’s time to move on—forget the past.” And to Chris Brown: “We value your career and the fact that you have reclaimed it more than we value how you treat a woman you love.” And finally to Rihanna: “You were partly to blame for not showing up to the Grammy’s in 2009 but…thanks for “still being a fan” now we can go back to business as usual—making money.”

Maybe there are a lot of people who don’t want to talk about the raw and utter truth of what happened in the car that night—and perhaps there are people who want to focus on the fact that Chris Brown complied with the mandates imposed on him by the justice system therefore we all need to “get over it.” And maybe there are people who sincerely believe he deserves a second chance just as Ken Ehrlich spoke of.
But what did that decision say to our children? What are the conversations we need to be having now?

While discussing this subject with my own kids my 15 year old son asked this question:

“What has Chris Brown done to demonstrate he actually has remorse or has learned from what he did….and outside of what
was required of him mom–like take Michael Vick, he went to jail, he paid his fine, AND he started a non-profit for abused animals…”

It is an important question. There was an apology—but has he really done anything to make a difference—not that I am aware of. Does he have to? No. Would it be great if he truly could at some point turn his lessons learned into real tangible action, yes, but recent events don’t leave me all that hopeful…

Here are some stark facts: Chris Brown was charged with California Penal Code 422, which in laymen’s terms is, the code that states the defendant threatened to kill the victim, he is right now on probation and will be for two more years. In March of 2011, while in the studio of Good Morning America, Chris Brown had a violent outburst after being questioned about his past; the result of that outburst was Chris Brown broke a window with a chair.

After the Grammys Chris Tweeted the following message to his haters:

“HATE ALL YOU WANT BECUZ I GOT A GRAMMY Now! That’s the ultimate FUCK OFF!”

And as we learned the following morning many young women tweeted messages that stated they would welcome a beating if it meant being with Chris. And his response (to the best of my knowledge) was to meet them with silence.
Underneath all of this confusion there are countless calls for dialogue with each other, young people and ourselves:

How do we affect change when it comes to media messages?
How can we “vote” with our dollars and or, our actions?
What role does forgiveness have in our lives?
What does a healthy relationship look like?
What is victim blaming?
What can a person who has perpetrated violence do to earn forgiveness and second chances?
Should we expect celebrities to be role models?
Do the words in music matter?

Rihanna and Chris Brown are a trending topic… I agree so wholeheartedly with Jane Randal, director of The Love Is Not Abuse Coalition, in her interview with MTV ACT when she says the following in response to the argument “that Rihanna and Chris have grown since 2009, and if they have gotten over it, we all should, too.”

“To see people be so dismissive of what happened is distressing,” she said. “It makes me think that nothing has really been ‘learned’ from the situation.”–Jane Randal

Truly we are all still learning… I just truly hope it won’t, in the end, be at the expense of another life—whether it be Rihanna’s or one of the
countless young people who look up to her…when people hurt from domestic violence…we all suffer, when people die from domestic violence; there are no second chances.

I would love to hear from you…what other topics will help people, young and old alike, navigate through the countless messages landing on them?

Please visit my resource tab and learn more about organizations working to end teen dating and domestic violence.

Last, my sincere thanks to Melissa Wardy of Pigtail Pals who helped uncork this conversation on her Facebook Page great insight and thought has been shared by many of those gathered there, this is the sort of dialogue that I feel truly makes a difference.

What we choose to forget

Is it just me or do we American’s have the shortest memories on the planet?

February 8, 2009 may not ring a bell for you… but I’d like to share a story and maybe after you finish reading it, you will understand what I mean about what we choose to forget.

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Her fists slammed onto the dashboard—she admits she was enraged—something from earlier that evening, a flirtation? An indiscretion? We will never know. And really? It does not matter.

He pulled over, reached across her, opened the door and tried to push her from the car but to no avail. She had a safety belt on.

Imagine her—close your eyes and picture it—for her protection from an accident she is strapped into the seat. But, what she was about to experience would be no accident.

Because he couldn’t shove her from his vehicle, he slams her head into the passenger window. The violation now ringing through her head she turns to him and with his closed fist he punches her in the left eye. And then he begins to drive again. Only while driving? He continues to punch her viscously.

Her mouth fills with blood—she can’t hold it in—it splatters all over her clothing and the car. His assault slows down and in that moment she reaches for the visor, flips it down…a swelling eye, puffed up lips, scrapes of torn flesh…stare back at her.

When someone beats you there are moments, in fact they may be recorded seconds, which slow down almost as if they were being controlled by a movie engineer. And I imagine her—in those exact split seconds her mind registering the damage thinking these words—there is no way I can hide this.

“When we get home I am going to beat the shit out of you! You wait and see!” His words crack into the silence. She grabs her phone—pushes a number which connects to an unanswered phone but, she pretends it is answered: “I am on my way home…make sure the cops are there when I get there.”
“You just did the stupidest thing ever, now I am really going to kill you!” and the violence, having caught its breath, begins again.

She interlocks her fingers behind her head, brings her arms together enveloping her already pulverized face and bends toward her lap in an effort to protect her face. The barrage of punches continues all over her left arm, where later, a massive contusion on her left triceps, will be documented.

Her boyfriend backs off. And again she makes an effort with her phone—this time a text message. He grabs the phone from her, throws it out the window onto the street, stops the car, and she scrambles to undo her seat belt and opens the car door desperately wanting to get to her phone.

Again I imagine her—cleaving to the notion that the phone somehow is going to offer her the protection the seat belt could not.

—But, he screeches from the stopped position causing the door to once again slam shut.

Did time slow down again?…

She notices his cell phone on his lap—with her left hand she grabs the phone. With his right arm, while driving, he puts her in a head lock….she feels the car swerving, she can’t move, her head now so close to him he can, and does, bite her right ear—again he stops the car. He releases her. She reaches for and grabs the keys from the ignition. She sits on the keys. He begins punching her all over yelling for the keys. Again he puts her in a head lock only this time he has the front of her throat between his bicep and forearm where he applies pressure and she can’t breathe.

SHE CAN’T BREATHE!

Somehow she manages to get her left hand to his face and attempts to gouge at his eyes. He bites her again—this time catching her ring and her middle finger between his teeth. He releases her.

She removes her shoe and begins to bang at the window in an effort to break it. He punches her all over…she turns, puts her back up against the passenger door and puts her feet onto him trying to shove him away from her…he continues to punch at her feet and legs—more bruises. She pushes her door open and begins to scream—she screams into the midnight air for help.

And in that moment all the worry about what people will say, think and do, is sucked out of the atmosphere…she is fighting for her life.

He exits the car, walks to the passenger side and attempts to shut the door—she pushes it back open and continues her screaming.
Not able to close the door he begins punching her arm…she continues to scream.

He stops walks to the driver side and he yells. “WHERE ARE MY FUCKING KEYS?!”

Where are my fucking keys. Not: what have I done…but, “WHERE ARE MY FUCKING KEYS?”

He looks for his keys all while she is screaming…but of course he doesn’t find them…she is sitting on them. Now he goes back to the driver side, and get this, he takes a pack of his CD’s and he walks away.

He takes his CD’s?

And that’s when the cops show up. They look for him but do not find him.

They document all of their observations—the abrasions, contusions, the blood splattered all over the car. They take photographs, pictures of her, pictures she will later wish had never been taken, pictures of the car we will never see. She complains of pain, but the cops don’t get her
medical assistance, she later will seek medical treatment at Cedar Sinai, but in those moments she is questioned, observed, documented.

And it all unfolds from there…hours later the world will learn that this wasn’t someone we have never heard of it was Rihanna. And the man who beat her, bit her, threatened to kill her, was none other than Chris Brown. Chris Brown whose fist and large ring tore at Rihanna repeatedly and without any mercy. Chris Brown who cut the oxygen off from Rihanna’s throat—yes, that Chris Brown.

The same Chris Brown who was charged with California Penal Code 422 , in layman’s terms: the code that states the defendant threatened
to kill the victim. The same Chris Brown who pled guilty to assault charges and whose sentencing was five years of probation and to spend more than 1,400 hours in “labor-oriented service” and 52 hours in domestic violence training.

Fast forward to February 12, 2012 or The ”what we choose to forget” part: The same Chris Brown, who is not yet finished with his probation terms, is one of the key attractions at the Grammy’s—on a stage performing for millions of people—a platform that was given to him by The Grammy Foundation, the advertisers and the countless fans.

Excuse me? What?

Later we learn about Matt Stoperas’ article, 25 Extremely Upsetting Reactions to Chris Brown at the Grammy’s, which highlights Twitter feeds of girls who welcome a beating from Chris Brown. Yes, the same Chris Brown who threatened to kill Rihanna and beat her repeatedly.

February is National Teen Dating Violence Awareness and Prevention Month—the alarming trend in the tweets reveals the staggering lack of awareness among youth. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, glamorous about fighting for your life.

There is no amount of good looks, talent, fame, or wealth that makes up for the humiliation, fear, betrayal and permanent affect on a psyche that abuse in a relationship has. The victim blaming rolls from the lips of young people struggling to make sense of a syndrome which has been normalized by our half asleep, amnesiac culture.

If you do nothing else today—I beg of you—take the time to open up a conversation about Chris Brown and Rihanna, victim blaming, relationship abuse and our seemingly forgetful nation, with your teen.

You may think I am being dramatic…think again…reach out to any of the foundations listed on my Organizations Working to End Dating Violence resource page. Ask them, they know, each one of those families buried their daughter after she was murdered by a guy who claimed to love her.

Note: the brain image Photograph: Howard Sochurek/ Corbis