The crushing difficulty of child abuse cases is that children love the parents who abuse them and live not only in physical danger but emotional danger as well. I think of poor Robert, fearful because his dog had gotten loose and he knew his mother would be angry. Every small, insignificant mistake a child makes or any annoying incident that the child can be blamed for can provide the occasion for the parent to berate and batter the child. And so the child walks on eggshells, trying to please the parent or stepparent, trying to be perfect, and of course failing because children are by definition going to learn by trial and error. A psychologist once told me that it is natural for children to love even abusive parents, that they hope the parent will change and often believe that things will improve if the child can just be perfect. And while they want the abuse to stop and the abuser to love them, the worst possible thing would be for someone to find out what was happening to them at home.
I think this case hits me so hard because I know so exactly from my own childhood the fear and loneliness and longing Robert must have felt, even though I never had to endure the extremes of physical abuse that he suffered. And he looks so much like a little boy of the same age who lived next door to use for a while in the hellish house created by battling divorced parents who cared far more about their own social lives than the lonely little boy who spent hours at our house. He moved, and I still think about him and miss him and wonder how he is. His name was Robert, too.
We can't wait for government agencies to protect these kids. We have to pay attention to the long sleeves and long pants they wear to cover their bruises. We have to understand that they may never tell the worst things, even if we earn their trust. We have to watch and listen and observe and have the courage to report suspected abuse and to find allies in the community who can help. One thing adults who have survived physical and emotional abuse or neglect can do is to tell children their own stories, not to try to pry confidences out of a child, but to build the idea in the child that their hell is not unique, they are not alone, and that someone who has experienced abuse will understand them and their situation if they find the courage to talk. As a teacher, I am always surprised that the abused and neglected kids find their way to my office; it's like I have a sign on my forehead. "Regular" kids have no idea.
