Saturday, November 12, 2011

I am a...

I was 12 in 1974. Certainly in most ways a modern era, yet in others it was ages ago. What do you remember from 1974? What do you remember from being 12?
Briefly and in random order here are a few of mine in terms of statements and thoughts:

• “You were queering with me, too”. Said the Boy Scout leader to the other leaders in defense of fondling me in a tent one night.
• This is bad I’ve got to get out of here.
• If mom or dad find out I’m in trouble.

I learned that’s how boys handle this kind of shame. And it becomes how a man handles things. We don’t talk. “If I tell mom or dad,( or my friends, or my wife, or)…trouble”.

It wasn’t a Scouting event that day/night. He was pretty cool – let us shoot guns on his parents’ property, make camp fires and do real camping; not just me, but lots of boys.

But, simply, it was cold, cold, cold that night and I was so cold I couldn’t sleep. I said, “I’m freezing”. He said climb in my sleeping bag. I did. It was warmer, but also sickeningly creepy. There wasn’t a lot of room. His hands on me. Not necessary. Not necessary.

I got out.

Did he do that to other boys? I don’t know, but I am certain.

I never knew why the leadership of Troop 134 of St. Joseph’s Catholic Church was unceremoniously removed and replaced a year or so later. I don’t know if my mom and dad know. I think they do; there was a meeting the parents attended. Nothing was shared. What I think happened is that another boy was assaulted and this boy did tell his parents, and his parents did go to the church and did demand…a change.

The church, the BSA, the parents made it go away. No crime was committed – just really gross, unseemly behavior. Sick, perverted behavior. And that’s what you did back then – you made it go away and put it out of your mind and I guess it didn’t matter one fucking little bit that the goddamn perpetrator was still out there. Out there was ok, because it wasn’t “here”.

I don’t think my mom and dad know I was a victim. I never told them.

I know why the grad student didn’t stop the assault taking place in the shower at Penn State, why Joe Pa only reported it internally, why the assistant coach, the assailant, was allowed to keep his reputation intact. Even today, for the grad assistant to go to the police would have meant that he’d lose his job with Penn fucking State; he’d have been ostracized for taking an internal matter outside; he’d have betrayed Joe fucking Pa!. That’s why the other scout leaders didn’t react or do anything when one of their own said, of a 12 year old child, “you were queering with me, too”. As with the church scandals and with Penn State, no crime was committed – just really gross, unseemly behavior. Sick, perverted behavior. And that’s what you did back then – you made it go away and put it out of your mind and I guess it didn’t matter one fucking little bit that the goddamn perpetrator was still out there. Out there was ok, because it wasn’t “here”.

Epilogue: Yes, a crime was committed. Crimes were committed. How many, I don’t know. I checked the state Sexual Predator Registration list and there was mine. The photo showed a 62 year old, 6’1”, 250 lb man. I recognized him. 1988 conviction for 2nd Degree sexual assault, type B. He must have plead down because the Circuit Court Access shows he was charged with a 1st Degree sexual assault.

I am a Motorcyclist and a strongman, and a husband and a father. And when I was a child I was assaulted by an adult. I am a victim. Thank you for letting me talk about it.

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