Cowards, Silence, and Innocent Blood
I had decided not to write about the child rape incident at Penn State. I had decided that I would put out a few links on Twitter and Facebook, briefly state my opinion, stop reading news articles, and turn my attention to happier things in order to preserve my sanity. But I can't. My heart hurts too much, and for this moment, I cannot look away.
As I write this, I am watching the kids get off the bus at the stop outside my house, and tears are streaming down my face.
I had decided not to write about this. I had decided that I would put out a few links on Twitter and Facebook, briefly state my opinion, stop reading news articles, and turn my attention to happier things in order to preserve my sanity.
But I can’t.
My heart hurts too much, and for this moment, I cannot look away.
When, as an adult, you come come across another adult raping a small child, you should a) do everything in your power to rescue that child from the rapist, b) call the police the moment it is practicable.
–from John Scalzi’s Omelas State University,
November 10, 2011
There was the rapist. There was the 28-year-old man who witnessed the rape. There was the father of the witness. There was the coach who heard it from the father. There was the school administration who heard it from the coach.
Not one of them stood up and stepped between that child and his tormentor. To be clear: A 67-year-old man was anally raping a 10-year-old boy in a university locker room shower. Within days, at least five people knew about it, and not a single one of them reported the rape to a law enforcement agency.
The silence of these men rips my heart to shreds.
Now, there is a campus full of at least 1,000 university students who rioted over the firing of their beloved coach — their beloved coach who knew his friend and co-worker was raping young boys and did nothing to stop him.
Some of these students, according to the sister of the boy in the shower, are turning that boy’s torment into a joke. They talk about getting “Sanduskied.” They laugh.
Don’t tell me that this is unlike German civilians ignoring clouds of ash above a concentration camp.
Don’t tell me that this is unlike audiences of young Americans in the 1990s, laughing at the nakedness of imprisoned Jews in the movie “Schindler’s List.”
Don’t tell me dear old “JoePa” did what he could by reporting the incident to his administration. Don’t stand there and tell me he fulfilled his legal obligation by telling the university.
What of his moral obligation?
What of these men’s collective moral obligation to that child?!?
To that child, the report of the rape to university officials means NOTHING. They left that child in the cold, and the other victims with him. They turned their backs on that child and shook hands with the man who raped him.
Oh, cowards.
How can you justify remaining silent when the blood of the innocent calls out for justice?
Want me to get graphic about it? How about the anal blood of the innocent?
How can you justify the culture of silence surrounding this horror?
How can you justify the seed of awful darkness that grew in this silence?
How can you justify supporting a man who supported a child rapist?
How can you make jokes about the rape of a child?
How can you look away?
HOW CAN YOU WITNESS THE RAPE OF A CHILD AND LOOK AWAY?
__________
Some of you know that I’m involved with the Kindle All-Stars project, a collection of short stories in support of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. All proceeds from the anthology will be donated to the Center.
It is a small, small thing I do, donating a story to help prevent the rape of children. I feel humbled and thankful that I can help even just a little bit. I pray that I will have opportunity to do more.
But my small contribution doesn’t make my heart ache any less.
I feel like I’m in mourning.
Either in the near future or in the distant future, the rapist and his accomplices in silence will pay for what they have done. In the meantime, there are at least several thousand young adults who care more about their school’s and one man’s reputation than they care about the sexual torment of at least 8 innocent children.
That breaks my heart into more pieces than can be put back together right now. God, please save all of us from this corrupt generation.
As I write this, I am watching the kids get off the bus at the stop outside my house, and tears are streaming down my face.
Voltaire wrote, “Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.”
I’m right there with you, Court.
There’s a scripture in the New Testament that says, in effect, that if we know the right thing to do and don’t do it, then that’s not just us letting evil happen, it’s us participating in evil.
When I was a kid and a teen, I didn’t understand how that could be possible…I thought of it as an unfair extension of “guilt by association.” Now, I realize that guilt through not-association can be just as valid a concept. And it’s just as strong a call to do the right thing.
Or even more so.
As an educator and mother, this report sickens me to no end. I have seen the children be raped in other ways than the actual act itself. By that I mean by the parents unconcern for their children, the lack of respect by other educators and people they are to look up to. Where is the accountability for our adult behavior and concern for the children we are to protect and love?
Cindi, I don’t even have kids, and I’ve never taught a classroom full of children — but still, I ask myself these same questions all the time. Indeed, where is our collective accountability? There seems to be less and less of it all the time.