Tag: trauma

Silent promises to my friend, Wendy

By Tammi Pitzen, Executive Director of The Children’s Advocacy Center of Jackson County

I have been wanting to write this post for a long time. I asked the person who is at the heart of this story – twice — if it was okay. I have sat down hundreds of times trying to get started and was never able to get past the first sentence or two. I have touched on it a time or two in other posts.

But it’s time to pay tribute to my friend and own up to my own shortcomings.

Some of you know that I started my career in child protection in the same very small town that I grew up in and where I graduated high school. Inherently, that means that I crossed paths with many people that I knew while investigating child abuse cases. Some impacted me. And, ironically, the one that impacted me the most was not one that I was investigating.

To tell the whole story, I need to go back to the beginning.

I don’t know when I first met Wendy, but I know that I have known her more than half my life now. My first really clear memories were in middle school. She lived with her brother and her dad. I never knew what happened to her mom or why she was not in the picture. She and I talked some, but not a lot. She and I went to the same church.   I am ashamed to say that I never asked her anything. I suspect if I did, she and I would have found that we had some things in common — like our dry sense of humor, fierce loyalty, a desire to help people, some insecurities about who we were and dreams of living in places far away from our small hometown. I also would have found out that we had things that were very different about our lives.

All during this time, there were rumors or concerns whirling around of Wendy being abused.

I remember the adults trying to be kind to her. Looking back at it now, I wonder how that felt. Being kind does not make the abuse stop. I think that people shied away from Wendy because of believing she was abused. As if somehow it was “catching”.

I remember hearing some of the adults talk about how there was something not right about Wendy’s relationship with her dad. I didn’t know a lot about abuse when I was in high school. I was so busy trying to survive, that I doubt I looked around to see anyone else’s struggles.

As an adult looking back, I feel guilty.

We graduated high school. I went to college. I am not sure where Wendy went. She got pregnant in high school during a time that it was not as accepted as it is today. She gave the baby up for adoption. Some thought that was for the best. Our worlds went down different paths for a while. I graduated from college and went back to this same small town to start my career. I started investigating child abuse reports for the Department of Social Services.

I had been there for a couple of years. I had not run into Wendy. If I am honest, I doubt I thought much about Wendy. Then one day, I was in the record room at work and came across a file that had her dad’s name on it. We were purging files. I had gone in to get more files to start working on.

I stared at that file for what seemed like eternity. Sitting on the shelf. Wondering what I should do.

My eyes starting to sting, and my heart started to race. I am pretty sure I sobbed. I couldn’t even bring myself to pull the record off the shelf. I stood there staring at it. It seemed too intensely personal.   It felt like time had stopped. I am sure it was only a matter of seconds.

My co-worker came in … grabbed the file and went back into the area where we were working. I pulled myself together and grabbed the next few files and went back to my seat.   My co-worker asked if I was okay. She said I looked like I was not feeling well. I pulled myself together and continued working.

I never read the file. I never checked to see if there was anything left after we purged some things that the state had decided needed to be destroyed. While I never read it, I never forgot and would find myself thinking about Wendy from time to time.

And then Facebook came on scene. I got a friend request from Wendy. We reconnected through the world of social media. I learned that Wendy’s life had not always been easy, but Wendy persevered.

Wendy was abused.

Wendy was physically, sexually, and mentally abused, as well as, chronically neglected as a child.

Reports were made, but she never felt safe to tell anyone. They would come to her house to interview her with her Dad in the next room. She shared with me that she had four different family members abuse her. It hurts my heart to think about it. But Wendy was and is resilient. Wendy made promises to herself and to her children.

Wendy went to college. She first got her associates and bachelor’s degree in Psychology and then got her masters in Health Care Management.

Wendy did indeed survive her childhood home and has been able to pick up those pieces of herself that were shattered by abuse and put them back together. She is one of the most resilient people I know.

I did not know enough to help Wendy when I was a teenager. When I found out that Wendy had been abused or got confirmation, I replayed a lot of my childhood in my mind.

I sat at my computer and cried that I had not been able to help Wendy thirty something years ago.

I tell this story not to garner sympathy for Wendy or for me. Not to illustrate my failure to protect or even be a good friend. I tell this story to show that abuse is out there, and it is close to us. It always has been.

I tell this story because I wonder if there had been a Children’s Advocacy Center to go to, she would have felt safe, and if some of her abuse would have been prevented, and if some of her struggles could have been lightened.

I felt powerless, frightened and too ignorant on child abuse to intervene way back then, but I have promises to keep…no more excuses.

I made it my life’s work to intervene—to do something to stop adults from abusing children. I never intended to stay in this work for this long. I had other plans. However, sitting in a small records room in Louisiana, I was persuaded to continue until I could continue no more.

I made some silent promises to Wendy that day.

I promised to always make a report if I suspect abuse. I will never turn away again. I promised to not be afraid to ask if something doesn’t seem quite right. I promised never to allow a “whatever happens in the family is not my business” mentality to prevail. I promised to always intervene on behalf of a child.

I have been working and advocating on behalf of abused children for 29 years. There have been many moments that have inspired me to continue, but they all started with a few silent promises to my friend Wendy.

I bet that the majority of you have a Wendy in your life. Even if you don’t know who they are. Statistically, there is no way you don’t have a Wendy in your life.

I want to ask you to do what you can to keep a child safe. I want to ask you to make a report to authorities when one needs to be made.

You will never regret making a report to keep a child safe, but you may regret not making one.

Tammi Pitzen
A Bright Future
By Claudia Cervantes, Protect Our Children Project Bilingual Training Coordinator

Recently I attended the Regional Meeting of Coordinators of the Protect Our Children Project that took place in Eugene. It was a full day of inspiration and learning, and I can certainly say that after the first conference, I was not the same person.

Now I am someone with a new hope filling my heart: Resilience.

We can all heal and overcome the traumas that we experienced in our childhood and live a life with meaning, with purpose.

Doctor and therapist, Amy Stoeber, spoke about the adverse experiences in childhood (ACEs) and how they can be treated through an Education for Resilience. We are all born with the ability to be resilient. That means we are born with the ability to overcome the traumas we experienced in childhood and face life developing our strengths. And although this is a natural skill, “Resilience can be taught, modeled and improved,” says Doctor Stoeber.

Through new routines, the brains of children and adolescents are modified and new connections are built in the brain structure to develop new behaviors and abilities.

If adults promote the ability to be resilient, children and adolescents can develop skills of social competence, autonomy, problem solving, a sense of purpose and a belief in a bright future.

But, how to obtain positive results in an education for resilience?

Here I share some ideas of Dr. Stoeber for creating a support system when promoting education to improve resilience in children:

On the part of the parents:

Unconditional love. Remind your son or daughter that you love them no matter what happens or what they do.
- Model the behaviors that are expected. Look them in the eyes, do not lie, hug, be orderly, respectful, and kind.
On the part of the professionals (teachers, therapists, other adults in professional roles.)
- Communicate without judging. Parents and children should feel that the support people are not there to judge them.
We are a team. The goals we want to achieve are established together – through a language that implies an “us”.

Dr. Stoeber also shared some ideas about how to spend time with your children and help them develop Resilience. She suggests spending 10 minutes a day, three times a week, avoiding all distractions such as cell phone use and letting your son or daughter choose a game or activity.

Here’s idea for one game to play with your children: “I love you no matter what.”

I played this game with my nine-year-old daughter and asked, “Do you love me even if I do not cook quesadillas every day?” And she told me, “Yes mom, I love you anyways.” And then she asked me, “Do you love me even though sometimes I get mad?” And I said, “Yes, I love you no matter what.”
My secret.

By Tammi Pitzen, Executive Director of the Children’s Advocacy Center of Jackson County

January is here again. Halfway over and then on to February. I don’t typically get very personal on this blog. However it seems timely to talk about secondary trauma and what that might look like in a child.

I say timely because January 16 (yesterday) is the anniversary of a terrible event in my family’s history.

I won’t delve too deep into that tragedy, other than to say it changed me and it changed my family. I lost a family member through a horrible tragic event from which I sometimes fear I will never recover. And then February comes and I am functioning. And then March comes, and with spring, the darkness is replaced with light. Every year this cycle repeats. I used to not recognize what was going on and now I anticipate it. January is a “dark” month that is busy and maybe that busyness keeps me sane. This event happened in 2002 and is unresolved in many ways. It is unresolved legally. While I recognize that healing does not happen in the legal system, it is hard to move on until that has happened.

Bizarre how my professional life and personal life become entangled during the first month of the year. Logically I know things. But my heart does not believe my years of experience.

I want to talk about secondary trauma and maybe provide some understanding to professionals who are working with children or even adults and those in between ( but for the purposes of this blog, I am going to focus on children) who have experienced trauma or secondary trauma. I want to use my own experience to do so.

In January I become agitated. I become a little scattered…more than the normal chaos that is my life. I am tired. Fatigued beyond what anyone can really understand. I get physically sick. Sometimes with a sinus infection. Sometimes with a stomach bug. Sometimes with migraines. I stare off and disconnect…sometimes when it is not convenient. I can’t sleep. I over eat…junk food. I am distracted. I am full of anxiety. (Even as I write this…I am worried about how my family will feel…will I offend them? Will I hurt them by putting words to the experience? Will my colleagues feel differently about me?) I sometimes burst into tears and don’t understand why.

Until I remember. My body remembers first, then my heart, and finally my brain catches up. This went on for 11 years without my recognizing the connection. About four years ago, I began to make the connection back to my family tragedy and recognized that I was having some symptoms of secondary trauma.

I am an adult. An adult with 20+ years of working with trauma. It took me 15 years to recognize what was happening to me. This would be the first January that I am in control of my life. (Or at least I think I am.) And when I say control, I mean that I recognize what is happening and have a strategy to deal with it. Not that I don’t still cry when I think about the loss.

Children don’t have 15 years to learn to master their feelings and regulate their emotions. Children don’t have the words to describe these emotions they do not understand.

That child who is in your classroom, your after-school program, your Sunday school class…the one who is always bouncing off the walls. What if that is merely his body trying to save him from the pain of his trauma. The child who can’t ever stay focused. The one you call on in the middle of class when you know he is not paying attention, and then everyone in the class laughs at him—what if all his attention is focused on not completely disintegrating at any moment. We call these children low achievers. That little boy you don’t want your child hanging around because he has anger issues. Maybe he just needs some love and understanding. Maybe he has good reason to be angry. We call these children hyper. We call them a problem.

These kids are everywhere. Not just in school. This isn’t a blog picking on adults who work in the school system. I see them at church. I see them in Fred Meyers. I see them at the movies. I see them on neighborhood playgrounds. I see them in my son’s life.

I want to remind everyone that trauma can be as a result of abuse, but it can also be as a result of many other things. I recognize I am a child abuse advocate and most of what I write about is child abuse related. Trauma is trauma. Whether it is from abuse, from war, from loss…we may all experience it different. The impact is never the same. The response is not the same. But none of us are immune.

How many people do you recognize in your life who may be dealing with trauma?

Do you ever wonder how many social problems would almost completely disappear if everyone was given the tools needed to resolve trauma? Do you think we would continue to have substance abuse issues? If we could resolve trauma would we have the healthcare crisis we face now? If we were all taught how to work through and resolve trauma, would we see as many hate crimes? Would we need to spend billions on prisons? I wonder.

I am so incredibly lucky. I have a supportive family who when they don’t know what to say, say nothing and hold on tight. I am incredibly lucky in that I have a job that I love that allows me to take a sick day if I need to. I am incredibly lucky in that I am not struggling with other life challenges.

Usually at this point in the blog I am putting in some kind of resolution. Some kind of call to action. If I am honest I don’t know the answer.

Maybe compassion is the answer. Maybe seeing past the behavior and seeing the child is the answer. Therapy is a good start for the child so they can learn to recognize what is happening to their body. Therapy can teach them to understand they are not crazy. There are physical, biological responses to trauma both primary and secondary trauma. Therapy can teach them to master their emotional responses.

As adults in the lives of these children, maybe we can pause before we react to the behavior that is presented and question what the driving factor for this behavior is. Maybe we can stop asking why are you doing this and start asking how we can help. Maybe we can help support the caregivers in the lives of these children by taking the stigma out of seeking counseling.

We all need help every once in a while. Maybe love isn’t all we need after all. Maybe we need acceptance. Maybe we need understanding. Maybe.

Tammi Pitzen
Helping children after the San Bernardino school shooting

By Tammi Pitzen, Executive Director of the Children’s Advocacy Center of Jackson County

Today, as I sit behind my desk, I am seeing sunshine out my windows and feeling gratitude for the spring weather that is soon to be here. I have learned to live in these sweet, private moments because they come too seldom.

I will admit to spending a few minutes checking my Facebook and checking the news sites to see what I have missed during the day.

As I read through the headlines, my heart sank. There, tucked in with all the political stories, was a story that seems to be unfolding on a shooting at a school in San Bernardino, in which an 8-year-old boy lost his life.

On the surface, it appears to have been a domestic situation that took out an innocent child and hurt another. The shooter turned the gun on himself. I am assuming, that means he killed himself. The teacher appears to have been the target and was also shot and killed.

This man followed all the procedures and protocols. He signed in at the office. No one saw a gun. He then went to his estranged wife’s classroom and opened fire. The child was not the target the article stated.

I am feeling such sorrow. School represents a safe place for so many children; particularly those children who are not safe at home. School is a refuge. Again, we are reminded, that no place feels safe.

I am, in addition to an advocate for children, a mom. The news will have ended well before I make it home tonight. I will not spend any time watching reports play over and over tonight, as all the major news stations cover the story.

I will, however, go into my son’s room, climb into the top bunk with him and hold him as close to me as I can. I will go in several times throughout the night and check on him. I will stand in the dark and listen to him breath. I will run my fingers through his hair. We all feel vulnerable again.

I will be thankful that he is still with me. I will be reminded not to take that for granted. I will brace for the conversation that needs to happen when he asks questions. No matter how I try to shield him, he always seems to know what is happening.

My husband I will go into screening mode. We will not watch the news with James in the room or where he can hear it. We will reassure him as he asks about his own safety at school and at home. We will listen to his concerns and gauge his anxieties by tuning into his behavior. We will spend as much time hugging, cuddling, and reassuring as we can.

I sat down to write my child abuse prevention/awareness month blog tonight. But it will have to wait one more day.

I have a favor to ask of you.

If you have children in your life – your own or through family, friends, or through your work – make sure to spend some time listening to them. Listen to their words. Listen to their actions and behaviors. Listen to their silence. If they hear about this tragedy and I suspect they will, spend some time restoring their emotional safety.

Do not tell them not to worry about it. They will worry in spite of your command. Help them to understand their feelings instead of dismissing them. If you feel ill-equipped to have these conversations, find someone in the child’s life that can—perhaps a teacher, counselor, or church leader.

Maybe I am over reacting. Maybe it will not be on the news for the next two weeks non-stop.

Even that brings its own concerns. If this moves on quickly, then on a national level we are not having the right conversations. Domestic violence happens. School shootings happen.
Judge blames rape victim for not “keeping her knees together”

By Tammi Pitzen, Executive Director of the Children’s Advocacy Center of Jackson County

That day is not today.

Remember in my last blog that I yearned for a tomorrow where people understood trauma and what consent is? Well, after reading a story in the news and doing a little research on that story…that day is definitely not today!

A judge in Canada is facing removal from the bench for his conduct when he asked a woman in a rape case why she couldn’t “just keep her knees together.” Yes, let that sink in for a minute. Think about how those five words uttered by a man charged with upholding justice will impact the young rape victim he was speaking to in open court. She is 19. Imagine being 19 and being raped in a bathroom over a sink and then the judge presiding over your case basically tells you that you could have prevented this if you would have just kept your knees together, or if you would have pushed your bottom to the sink he would not have been able to penetrate you.

Please take a minute and re-read that last part and fully appreciate what he has done to this victim. And what he has done to this Rapist. The victim will forever live with those words and wonder if she could have prevented her own rape. If she somehow could have stopped him from robbing her of what her life could have been like without rape being a part of it.

He went on to give the rapist the following advice, “I want you to tell your friends, your male friends, that they have to be far more gentle with women. They have to be far more patient. And they have to be very careful. To protect themselves, they have to be very careful.”

He acquitted the rapist because he felt his story was more credible. This has been overturned and this case is set for a new trial. If you were that 19 year-old rape victim would you go through the ordeal of a trial again? Saying she was re-victimized in that courtroom by that judge is an understatement.

The judge is facing removal from the bench. There are proceedings going on right now. I am anxious to hear the outcome. I will be shocked if he is not removed.

His excuses? Well, he said that he received little training on sexual assault cases. He said most of his legal career he handled bankruptcy cases. He then went on to blame others. He said that his colleagues knew he had limited knowledge of Canadian law. He even went so far as to say it was non-existent.

Let’s ponder for a moment what some offender behaviors look like. In my experience, they blame others for their behaviors and choices. In my experience, they express their helplessness in what happened. In my experience, they minimize the consequences of their choices on their victims. I am going to leave that right here without any other comments.

Do you know what else bothers me about this whole scenario? In some news accounts his remarks are referred to as “off-color”. What does that mean? They are not off-color. They are demoralizing. They are humiliating. They are victim blaming.

There are reports that Robin Camp, the Judge in this case has undergone sensitivity training and has apologized publicly several times. Sensitivity training? This is not a case of saying something that hurt someone’s feelings. This is a case of potentially sentencing a victim of rape to a life of self-blame, feelings of unworthiness of protection, of self-destructive behavior…of a life-time of therapy to just process the trauma caused by the judge’s remarks, not even considering the amount of therapy to heal from the original trauma of the rape itself.

Do you remember the old saying- sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me? Words do hurt. They leave wounds that are both deep and disfiguring. They can kill a person’s soul. Professionals who are charged with upholding the laws and doling out justice have a special and unique power of defining what is acceptable behavior in our society and defining what is of value in our society. What they say impacts a victim’s recovery and healing. They should be very careful with their words. Whether they have specific training in sexual assault — they should have common decency and kindness.

I am still hoping for better opportunities for healing for victims of sexual assault, but more than that, I am still hoping for a world where a judge advises a rapist that he should not rape a 19 year-old over a sink in a bathroom at a house party.

I am still hoping for a world where a 19 year-old woman is not responsible for her rapist’s behaviors.
A chance for healing for boys who are victims of sexual abuse
Sacred Ground Kapalua, Maui. This lone tree stands watch over the spirits buried there

By Randy Ellison, Speaker, writer and author of the book Boys Don’t Tell: Ending the Silence of Abuse

As I hear the many inspiring stories of healing that are told during Sexual Assault Awareness Month (SAAM), I’m reminded of an amazing experience I had a few years ago.

I was invited to give a presentation to a small group of boys who had experienced sexual abuse …….age 10-13. I was nervous at the prospect of sharing with young survivors. I wasn’t sure what to put together in the way of a presentation. I always plan, plan, plan, and then plan some more before I do a presentation (anal retentive I think they call it!). Well for the first time in my life it just didn’t seem appropriate to prepare in advance. I thought I would know what to say when the time came.

I happened to watch a TED presentation from Brené Brown on shame that day, which was really about vulnerability. She shared that vulnerability is not really weakness as we perceive, but is in fact strength. When we expose ourselves as flawed and are willing to show our vulnerability, it is truly admirable and it opens the door for others to do the same. Well this is the theme I took to the boys. My entire preparation was based on a few words.

“…vulnerability is not really weakness as we perceive, but is in fact strength.”
- Vulnerability
- Control
- Secrets
- Shame
- Alone
- Not good enough
- Me first (to heal we must)
I’ll let you put your own meaning to each of these words.

When I arrived I was informed that the boys did not generally talk in the group about having been victimized. It was more of a peer support group. I started by sharing that I had been sexually abused, by whom, when and for how long. I went on to share what it did to my life by not dealing with it. I then told them about the amazing things that had happened since I began to tell my truth. We talked about the words above and what they meant to me and what they might mean to them.

By the end of the time at least three of the boys had shared personal experiences and feelings about what happened to them. One boy, age 11, told me about being ridiculed by a teacher for stuttering. His classmates were even harsher. As a foster child, how he cherished the times he was allowed to see his parents. Another boy, age 12, told me he attempted to commit suicide by taking pills, but now he takes pills that help him get through the day. A third boy shared that he was abused the way I was, and sometimes he has nightmares and wakes up scared in the middle of the night.

I wrapped it up with how lucky they were to have a group and a place like they were at to help them heal so they would not grow up with the problems I had. They had the opportunity to heal and become whole if they chose to and worked hard. I left with a broken heart for the pain these children are suffering, and praying that they will go on to live healthy lives with the help they are getting at a young age.

It was such an honor to spend time with these boys who are crying out to be heard, loved and understood. Any chance you may have to step in and become a mentor or Big Brother/ Big Sister to a child like these, you will find you are doing heaven’s work. It is amazing how a little time and effort can mend a broken soul. May you be as blessed as I was that evening.

Speaker, writer and author of the book Boys Don’t Tell: Ending the Silence of Abuse, Randy Ellison is a child-sexual-abuse, victim’s advocate and an activist promoting cultural change working with local, state and national organizations. Randy also works as a consultant for nonprofits dealing with awareness and prevention of intimate violence. He addresses abuse prevention and healing for survivors from a survivor’s perspective. Randy is a member of the Oregon Attorney General’s Sexual Assault Task Force. He maintains his own website boysdonttell.com
Why it Matters

This is a post by Randy Ellison, author of the book — Boys Don’t Tell: Ending the Silence of Abuse. Randy is also Board President of Oregon Abuse Advocates & Survivors in Service (OAASIS)

Why does what happened to me matter? Why does telling my story matter? Why does your story matter? What difference does it really make?

Why does it matter forty years later that my minister sexually abused me? Well for starters it impacted everything I did or didn’t do. When we live in total denial of major trauma that happened to us in childhood, our entire reality is distorted.

Because I had never spoken of what happened to me, every decision I made in life was informed by the trauma I suffered as a child. Technically I was a survivor, but as long as I held on to the toxic stress of child abuse, I was giving victim reactions to a lot of the input that came my way. It was not a choice I made, it was programmed into my brain to respond to people and situations as though they might be a threat.

My quality of life suffered immeasurably, and over time I became just plain tired of trying to hold it all. I do not believe one can attempt to recover from child sex abuse to please or satisfy someone else. You have to want it or need it for yourself, more than the perceived safety of keeping the secret, with the pain locked inside.

So as I started my therapy I had to learn to put health ahead of secret keeping. It took effort and intensity to break through my mind’s defenses and the shame that guarded my secret. To be honest, in my case it probably took a year before I realized how much others really meant to me. After a life of keeping everyone at a distance, when I started showing up, I found a whole new world open to me. As I learned to be present with others I was finally able to give and receive love.

Reporting my abuser mattered. The places he had been a minister were notified so they could look for others that might have been victims and needed help. The faith community became aware of what had happened in their building and had the opportunity to discuss what they needed to do to protect children and work for prevention. In creating a safe environment for kids, everyone benefits.

Telling your story matters more than you could ever imagine. It gives people you have never met the strength to share their own story. And the more we share our stories, the more we heal, systems change and our communities heal. As survivors, telling our story first changes our lives, and then it gradually moves outward through our love ones in an ever widening circle.

Children’s Advocacy Center intervenes in this process for kids that have been abused and focuses on helping the child recover. What matters most is preventing abuse from happening at all. But until we are able to do that, we need CAC to help the healing begin as soon as possible. Help a child heal today.

Imagine a world without child abuse. Together we make it happen. It matters.

To find out more about Randy Ellison and his book, Boys Don’t Tell: Ending the Silence of Abuse, visit: http://www.boysdonttell.com/

Randy Ellison