the young Gregg Milligan and his mother

Gregg Milligan and his mother

In the first two weeks of February, Oprah Winfrey decided to focus on child sexual abuse. She aired two shows. The first interviewed four perpetrators. The second show interviewed a 40-something year old man, Gregg Milligan, who had been sexually abused by his mother.

Judging by the reaction on Oprah’s website, blogs and on self-help discussion boards that include male survivors, the interview with Gregg Milligan has done untold good. It has opened up discussion on this difficult topic. Even more important it has given survivors a chance to hear someone like themselves tell a story they identify with strongly. Male survivors of childhood sexual abuse often suffer in silence, afraid that no one can possibly understand their story.

In both interviews Oprah seems bound to a commonly believed but highly questionable idea: that abusers go on to abuse others. In the interview with perpetrators, she asks two of them whether or not they had been abused. One answers yes and it the statement goes without comment. One answers “no” and Oprah expresses surprise. There is an unstated assumption that abuse somehow causes abuse.

This assumption reappears in the middle of the interview with Gregg Milligan. Oprah and Gregg are discussing why Gregg’s mother treated him this way. Oprah tries to explain Greg’s abuse in terms of his mothers own suffering. Then at the end of the show she describes Gregg’s excellent parenting as “breaking the cycle”. She concludes the interview observing that his choice not to continue the cycle is a choice too few people make. This implies that abuse is a default choice and non-abuse requires positive and exceptional action.

We talk so easily about a “cycle of violence” but what is the evidence for it? One of the most frequently cited studies used to support the cycle of violence (Widom, 1989) in fact found that the vast majority of abuse survivors did NOT go on to abuse. Something can’t be a “cause” if it fails to produce the expected result in the majority of cases. The author herself stressed the variety of responses to abuse, but that hasn’t stopped people from using her study over and over as “proof” that abusers go on to be abusers.

Later studies that have broken down adult behavior by type of abuse find that among all forms of abuse, sexually abused individuals are among the least likely to themselves become abusers. In fact, it is possible that the reverse is true: those who have been abused this way often exhibit higher levels of altruistic behavior. Many of the people working in low-status and low-paying jobs in rape crisis centers are survivors of sexual abuse. Gregg Milligan sacrificed himself and his relationship with his mother to protect his sister.

Mosaic by Norman Rockwell: The Golden Rule

The Golden Rule, mosaic designed by Norman Rockwell and donated to the UN in 1985

The altruistic behavior of survivors should hardly be surprising. One of the most basic rules of human relationships east and west is the Golden Rule: “do unto others as you would have others do to you”. Across centuries and cultures, this rule has taken many forms: For millenia doctors have been vowing to “do no harm” when they make the Hippocratic oath. The Hebrew Bible commands “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus, 19:18). Rabbi Hillel in the 1st century B.C.E. told his students to “Do not do to others what is hateful to yourself.”. Jesus told his disciples “Love your neighbor as yourself”. Confucius teaches a similar lesson to Tsze-kung:

Tsze-kung asked, saying, “Is there one word which may serve as a rule of practice for all one’s life?” The Master said, “Is not RECIPROCITY such a word? What you do not want done to yourself, do not do to others.”Analects 15:24

No matter how we word the Golden Rule, the Golden Rule presumes the existence of empathy. We need to be able to see and know what harmful, hurtful, unloving behavior is. Survivors don’t have to play guessing games about the injury caused by abuse. Some live it every day and others have spent long hours and many tears overcoming it. But all survivors know first hand how much abuse hurts. They are in fact in a better position to live the Golden Rule than those who have no personal experience of suffering.

The counter argument is that people do not act based on moral choice, but conditioning. We do as we see. Furthermore, some victims are so damaged psychologically that they lack the interpersonal skills to avoid abuse. This state of affairs can only be changed with extensive therapy.

Child survivors of Buchenwald leaving the camp

Child survivors of Buchenwald leaving the camp

There is something deeply disturbing in this logic. By this reasoning children growing up in concentration camps during the Holocaust should believe that starving people and sending them to gas chambers and crematoria is proper behavior. Initially, their behavior after rescue from the concentration camps was wild – they would rage and insist on foraging for food. They were considered beyond redemption. After a time they began to settle down, and most moved onto foster care or job training within a matter of months, barely enough time for any sort of serious therapy. And yet, among this group of survivors include three rabbis, one of whom was the Chief Rabbi of Israel. Others grew up to be doctors, medical directors, children home directors. One, Eli Wiesel, even won the Nobel Peace Prize. You can read more about child survivors of concentration camps here.

Of course, the only solution to argument and counter argument is research. It may also be possible that neither thesis is right. It may be that trauma pushes human behavior to the extremes, producing both high morals and angry disregard of others. Unfortunately, there are few, if any, studies to test the hypothesis that abuse leads to higher levels of moral behavior. We have only theories and unanswered questions.

Mother EarthMy journey of healing from rape has led me from a therapeutic interest in gardening to the search for ways to create a balanced and self-sustaining system for my own small garden to a wider interest in environmental issues.  Starting from when I moved into my current house, gradually clearing out the rubbish from the garden and carefully choosing just the right herbs and plants to bring the life back into it, gardening has become an important symbol of hope for myself.

As herbs, fruit bushes and useful native plants take over from the ‘wasteland’ that I’d inherited with the house, I’ve been able to observe how certain plants and wildlife work in harmony together – for example the lovage attracts hoverflies that keep the aphids off my roses, while the large clump of lemon balm also repels many pests from my fruit bushes.  It’s been a small-scale demonstration of how nature only needs a little bit of a helping hand to find her own balance.  Having seen for myself how it can work, how could I not also care about the wider garden of the planet?  How could I not want to see the balance restored on a broader scale than my own tiny patch?

How could I not want to see the balance restored on a broader scale than my own tiny patch?

How could I not want to see the balance restored on a broader scale than my own tiny patch?

There’s also no denying that as I’ve become more disciminating about who I want to spend my free time with, the environmental movement has brought me into contact with rather pleasanter, more idealistic people (of all faiths and none), than I often have to deal with day to day.  But the only problem with ideals is that they can all too often lead to over-enthusiasm, and a rather one-sided way of viewing the world.  I suspect this could be why I so often have to flinch and bite my tongue whenever some well-meaning idealist waxes lyrical about the “rape” of the earth.

It’s not that I can’t sympathise with the underlying message they’re trying to convey.  As countless species of wildlife go extinct, as huge areas of rainforest disappear, the words that spring to my mind are words such as destruction, vandalism, or even desecration to say that something sacred and vitally important is being lost to the world.  But still, none of these things are rape and nor will they ever be.

In the past, trying to speak out openly about my own experience of rape has come at a huge personal cost to me.  I have been met with disbelief, sheepish embarrassment, pity; peoples’ perceptions of me have changed in an instant from an intelligent and capable woman to a victim; and even long-standing friends have ceased to call and slowly drifted away from my life, because my truth makes them uncomfortable.  To me, rape is a terrifying word to say out loud because I know all too well the consequences of speaking up.  Silence, isolation and frustration have been a large part of my life for fifteen years now, and time definitely does not heal wounds such as these.

Is it any wonder, then, that hearing people casually toss out the rhetoric about the rape of the earth feels like yet another kick in the teeth to me?  It’s one more small betrayal, yet another diminishment of my personal struggle to find a life with some meaning and dignity.  Granted, the scale of the crisis that looms globally might seem to put my own personal problems into the shade – and yet, deep down I still feel that if those of us in the movement can’t deal respectfully with each others’ individual wounds, how will we ever learn to find a more gentle and balanced relationship with the natural world?

For myself, my journey has revealed to me that my own personal healing will not happen within some cosy, isolated little bubble.  As I keep working to find my place within the world, I am learning slowly to see how all of life is interconnected in subtle yet undeniable ways.  And thus, learning to reduce my own impact upon the earth isn’t simply some duty that I carry out for future generations – it becomes a task that I must undertake for my own benefit.  Caring for the earth becomes something as necessary to me as cleaning and renovating my own home, and my own garden.  Of course I couldn’t claim to always get it right, but each small step that I do take makes greater things possible over time.

I would however ask that any environmentalists who read this re-consider their use of metaphor.  Perhaps there are many in the movement who would respond to my history, if they were to hear of it, with more respect than certain one-time friends who have drifted away from my life.  But each time I hear the word “rape” repeated so easily, and seemingly with so little thought, I become less and less willing to take that risk.

Nemetona was the ancient Romano-British name for the guardian goddess of the sacred grove. It’s also the pen name of a reclusive and not-at-all famous writer and whisky lover who lives in Central England.

Marc Chagall - "Paysage Bleu"

Marc Chagall - "Paysage Bleu"

I don’t for one second doubt the existence of a rape culture. All the same, I am deeply uncomfortable with the common feminist definition:

It is a society where violence is seen as sexy and sexuality as violent. In a rape culture, women perceive a continuum of threatened violence that ranges from sexual remarks to sexual touching to rape itself. — Transforming a Rape Culture

As a survivor of rape, I feel that this definition is fundamentally flawed. Speech, touch, and penetration only represent a continuum if there is a relationship of mutual care that connects them together. Only love, joy and the desire to give them physical form can bind speech, touch, and penetration into a sequence of increasingly intense and intimate interaction.

When there is no mutual care or shared physical joy, these acts are discontinuous acts of invasiveness. Each has a significance all its own. They are not sex. They are violence pure and simple. No matter how attractively it is portrayed in the media, body parts aren’t being used as symbols of relationship or tools of pleasure. They are being used as weapons to wound and maim the soul.

The definition provided by Transforming a Rape Culture has the best of intentions, yet it implicitly accepts assumptions that create the very culture it is trying to fight. By seeing sexualized violence as sexuality, albeit in a perverted form, it confuses tools of relationship and pleasure with weapons of war and wounding. Seeing sexualized violence as a continuum conflates the violation of rape with the violation of abuse. We miss a crucial understanding of what makes rape culture so dangerous, not just to women, but to humanity itself.

Touching and speech are a normal part of human interaction, even among strangers. Inappropriately sexualized remarks and touching are abuse: they use what is given in trust to presume rights that a person doesn’t have. Abuse is deeply distressing and traumatic because it violates a relationship. We give someone a right to do something to us in kindness and love and then they misuse it to hurt us. It really doesn’t matter how they violate that trust, what hurts about abuse is the fact of violated trust.

Abuse presumes relationship. The hurt of rape is entirely different. It can and does exist with or without relationship because it has nothing to do with relationship. To the contrary, rape is the violation of separateness.

Rape violates the sacred boundaries of the body. Our bodies are the symbolic boundary between the self and the world. My body is the sanctuary of my soul, the place where my essence lives and contains itself. My body is also the only sign I have that I am alive. My being able to move my body, use my hands to help others, put food in my mouth, welcome someone special into my body, all of this makes my body indistinguishable from my being alive, my being able to connect to people, my being able to be myself in safety, even my ability to create life. So when everything is turned on its head and someone enters that space without permission, it is like they are taking life, messing with life, stealing a part of my self-hood.

If we’re going to talk about a rape culture, the definition of a rape culture needs to reflect the experience of rape. Rape is not the culmination of a rape culture, but its beginning. What would such a definition look like?

A rape culture is a culture that fails to acknowledge the sanctity of the body, the life within the body or the significance of violating its boundaries.

In a rape culture the receptive partner of any sexual interaction is most at risk for violation. Since women’s bodies are constructed for receptivity, women bear the brunt of suffering in any culture that failures to recognize the sacred boundaries of the body. But the suffering of a rape culture isn’t a gender issue. It is a receptivity issue. Any person, male or female, who takes the receptive role in an interaction is at risk.

A rape culture tells us it is permissible to violate receptivity in all its forms. It lets us laugh at things we ought to treat with respect.

The implications of this go well beyond rape. Receptivity is essential in all human interaction. If we live in a culture where we condone or look the other way when receptivity is violated, we destroy the very basis of trust and communication in our society. Creativity also requires receptivity and people who are afraid to be receptive will always be limited in their creativity. So long as a rape culture persists and receptivity is violated, we can never have peace. Sustained peace requires both trust and creativity in its fullest measure.

Yitzak Rabin's lyric sheet for Shir L'Shalom moments before he was assassinated.

No recent song has captured both the hopes and sorrows of peace of Israel like the song Shir L’shalom (Song for Peace).

This was the song that Yitzak Rabin, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, was singing moments before he was shot to death. The blood stained song sheet is in the Israeli national archives.

Ironically, the song was composed and first performed in 1969 by an Israeli military band. Israel is probably the only country in the world that considers the longing for peace proper material to motivate soldiers but this oddity has a long history in Jewish tradition where war is viewed as grim necessity rather than a sign of power or triumph. According to Jewish tradition, King David was a powerful leader but he had too much blood on his hands to build the temple in Jerusalem. That task was left to a later more peaceful ruler, the wise Solomon.

It may seem strange to talk about a song like Shir L’Shalom in connection with rape. After all rape is a crime involving two individuals. War is a crime between two peoples. And yet…

The relationship between war and peace is not simple. In rape, as in war, we are made to make tough choices: to fight for our lives or freeze and retreat. Individuals and peoples under threat both make hard choices.   For some odd reason we seem to have a double standard: we judge countries for fighting, and people who are raped for not fighting. Why? Why do we judge individuals for freezing, or even for giving the rapist what he wants?

We say that war is collective aggression and rape is private aggression, but how clear are the lines really? An individual soldier, not society, pulls each and every gun trigger in a war. The rapist does the raping, but in many cases, he has a belief that he is entitled to ignore another person’s wishes and even use force. Society tells him that sex is OK unless the woman aggressively stops him. His peers and even the legal system allow him to believe that alcohol or a woman’s dress or a no that isn’t loud enough is somehow carte blanche to do whatever he wants.

By treating war and rape as separate problems, we lose ethical integrity. Rape is about power, not sex. A society that tolerates rape has confused notions of power that go way beyond the problem of rape itself. We cannot have one standard for individuals and another for countries. We need to make peace by gaining a right understanding of the use of power at all levels, beginning with the personal.

Let the sun rise and light up the morning
Prayerful pleading will not restore us
She whose candle was snuffed out and buried in dust
cannot be brought back with a bitter cry.
None can answer us from the well of deepest dark
Neither joy in victory nor songs of praise will be effective.

So let us only sing songs of peace
Don’t whisper a prayer, better to sing a song for peace with a great shout.

Let the sun penetrate through the flowers
Don’t look back, let them go
Look up in hope, and not out through rifle sights,
Sing songs of love, and not of war.
Don’t say “it will come one day, bring us that day”
Because this is not a dream.
Raise a loud cry for peace in all the city squares.

So let us only sing songs of peace
Don’t whisper a prayer, better to sing a song for peace with a great shout.

If She Cry Out has put together a YouTube channel with songs that we hope will inspire, encourage, and empower.  In keeping with our philosophy of a multitude of voices, the channel contains a wide variety of musical styles and traditions:  instrumental, pop, folk, rap, gospel, blues, klezmer, and more.  Both secular and religious songs from many traditions are included.

The channel has several play lists, each covering a different emotional dimension of empowerment:

When The Goddess looks down on me what do I want for Her to see?

Do I want Her to see a person full of hate or of confusion and pain…perhaps resentment and distrust?

Is my wish for Her to look upon the face of betrayal and fear…a person with no hope of redemption or healing?

A figure hopeless and broken…defeated beyond measure by the hurts life heaps upon them and their refusal to let go?

Or do I want Her to see a being of hope, love, trust, forgiveness, healing, redemption and beauty?

Although those who have hurt me need to be held accountable, I need to learn how to do so without losing my warmth, love and humanity.

Can I learn that even though people have hurt and betrayed me, I still need to trust?

Not blindly, but with wisdom and understanding tempering my decisions.

Can I learn to forgive in the way in which I’d wish to be forgiven?

Can I learn to accept that people change…even those I have long believed completely evil?

Can I accept apologies from those who betrayed me at the worst possible level and give them permission to grow and change?

Do I have a right to forgiveness, growth, redemption and change if I cannot grant it to another?

Can I find the courage within to stand up to the challenges of life and not let them defeat me?

Can I come to terms with the truth that my choice is to either live life to its fullest or to hold onto hurt, resentment, anger and pain and therefore die…at the very least spiritually if not physically?

Can I come to realize that I cut off a piece of my own soul every time I cut into another’s through a spiteful or careless word or deed?

So I can only come to the conclusion that my question truly is:

When The Goddess looks down on me, do I wish for Her to see Life…or Death?

Brook Hill

April 9, 2010toApril 11, 2010

The second annual wilderness retreat for survivors of rape, sponsored by the author of Resurection after Rape will be an opportunity for for survivors to celebrate and meet with other proud, positive survivors from across the country, for a time of happiness, victory, and healing!

The retreat will include discussions lead by experts and leaders in rape trauma, a concert by Grammy award winning musician Bill Miller, and opportunities to engage in creative rituals for healing, grieving, and cleansing.

Location: Stillwater, Oklahoma, USA
Dates: April 9-11, 2009

For more information, please see:

http://www.resurrectionafterrape.org/spiritualretreat.html

הַעִידֹתִי בָכֶם הַיֹּום אֶת הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֶת הָאָרֶץ הַחַיִּים וְהַמָּוֶת נָתַתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ הַבְּרָכָה וְהַקְּלָלָה וּבָחַרְתָּ בַּחַיִּים לְמַעַן תִּחְיֶה אַתָּה וְזַרְעֶךָ לְאַהֲבָה אֶת יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ לִשְׁמֹעַ בְּקֹלֹו וּלְדָבְקָה בֹו כִּי הוּא חַיֶּיךָ וְאֹרֶךְ יָמֶיךָ לָשֶׁבֶת עַל הָאֲדָמָה אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּע יְהוָה לַאֲבֹתֶיךָ לְאַבְרָהָם לְיִצְחָק וּלְיַעֲקֹב לָתֵת לָהֶם פ

I have born witness to heaven and earth concerning you:
I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse
Choose life that you may live, you and your descendants,
To love the LORD your God, to hear God’s voice and cling to it
For God is your life and the measure of your days
To dwell on the earth which the LORD promised to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Issac and to Jacob – Deut 30:19-20

To be a victim….

To be a victim is to believe that my actions make no difference, that however I choose the outcome will be nothing and mean nothing. I can choose neither life nor death. That choice has been stolen from me by the one who attacked me.

To be a victim is to see the open door and refuse to walk through it. It is to believe that the current reality is better than risking any new reality because taking risks can only lead to more of the same or worse.

To be a victim is to confuse reality with truth. To be a victim is to see the surface effects and the context of our actions and to assign to them the most soul destroying meaning possible. To be a victim is to refuse to question this hurtful hermeneutic because questions are just illusions and alternatives are mere excuses.

To be a victim is to believe that our choices don’t matter. To be a victim is to believe that acknowledging the role of choice in an interpretation makes that reading untrue. To be a victim is to believe that the only truth is a reality that is forced upon us.

To be a survivor…

To be a survivor is to believe that truth can only come from the way we respond to circumstance and reality. Reality by itself can never be the final word. It is incomplete: it is a book without a reader, a song without an audience. To be a survivor is to believe we are responsible for being that reader, for being that audience.

To be a survivor is to believe that our choices matter. Regardless of outcome, they have an intrinsic value because they define who we are. To be a survivor is to believe that who we are and who we are becoming matters.

To be a survivor is to believe that the worth of our choices is not dependent on their outward expression or the immediate results of our actions. To be a survivor is to understand that if our outward choices looked like they were in agreement with the rapist it is only because we had chosen a good that was more important than anything the rapist wanted. To be a survivor is to understand that our outward compliance was in fact a profound rejection of everything the rapist wanted. Where the rapist wanted to hurt and maim, we wanted to save and protect. Where the rapist devalued life and all that was sacred, we sought to preserve life and honor what was most essential and holy.

To be a survivor is to understand that the truth lies in the way we respond and why and not just in the visible reality of our actions. To be a survivor is to refuse to confuse reality with truth.

To be a survivor is to open doors and walk through them joyfully. To be a survivor is to know that the end of the journey is not in our hands. To be a survivor is to understand that we are only responsible for walking through the door and for each door that follows, one choice at a time.

To be a survivor is to take the long view, to understand that our actions may have impacts we can never fully know and understand. To be a survivor is to trust that the choice that seemed to have no impact at all may lead to a set of changes remote from us, in lives and worlds far away from anything we will ever know. To be a survivor is to let go of the need to always connect the dots and to act in faith one step at a time.

To be a survivor is to believe that our story is not just for us alone, but also for all who went before us, all who travel with us, and all who travel ahead of us.

Elizabeth Grace Frank-Backman

The name of this site has a double meaning. First it applies to the crime of rape. Second it applies to its aftermath.

The phrase “If she cry out” comes from a verse in book of Deuteronomy that became the quintessential definition of rape in the Jewish tradition: Deuteronomy 24:25-27. “If a man finds a betrothed girl in a field and seizes her and lies with her … it is like the case of a man who rises up against another man and kills him. He found her in a field, and though the betrothed girl cried out, there was none to save her.”

This verse happens to be a fairly good description of what happened to me. In fact the memory of this verse is what helped free me from my initial shock when the rapist forced his way into my car and announced his intent to rape me. It loosened my voice. I shouted “Fire, Fire” at the top of my lungs hoping that the people asleep in the houses across the street would hear. I have a very large voice, but even in my case there was none to hear me. (I had read that calling “Fire, Fire” was less likely to trigger the bystander effect – see Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bystander_effect).

But not all victims get to cry out. Under stress, our bodies are designed to fight, flee, or freeze. Most rape victims freeze.  Physical flight isn’t usually an option when someone picks a rape target, but some flee emotionally while leaving their bodies in the hands of rapists whom they are too frightened to fight.  And some victims never really had a choice: they were drunk, drugged, unconscious, or simply too young to understand what was happening to them.

But the crime itself is only the beginning of a story of rape.  The story continues long after the rapist has left the scene.  For most survivors it continues for years.   But this isn’t a death sentence or a permanent wound.  It gives us new options and hope.

Survivors and any who want to walk with them can still cry out after the crime. They do not need to be silent. They can cry out with their pain. They can cry out with their wisdom. They can cry out against injustice and hatred. They can cry with compassion for others who are wounded. They can cry out in the name of a common hope.

If we cry out together, if we cry out in many different voices, in many different art forms, in many different religions, with many different kinds of activism and creativity, our experience will create a tumult that the world can’t ignore. If we cry out survivor and victim together, if we cry out untouched and touched together, we can redeem the past and heal the future. If we cry out, we can write a new ending and be there to save each other.

The Site Founder

This blog is about hope. It is about the will to find life in the darkest places. It is about surviving realities that must never be and yet were.

This blog is about difficult matters.  It is about rape, terror, and trauma, but it is also about the sanctity and holiness found in places that are too frightening to visit, even in the imagination. Although this blog starts with the experience of trauma, it is first and foremost about humanity: how we can make sense of things that should never ever be.

Far too often trauma is viewed as a medical condition to be overcome. In fact, trauma is a lens that brings into focus the deepest values we have as human beings. The goal of this blog is to explore this lens.

There will be no simple answers here. The lessons of trauma require all of human creativity.  Even then there are not enough words or images or sounds or actions to explain or evoke all of the wisdom that can be found for those who demand meaning from their experiences.

I write and so the first posts of this blog will express the meaning of trauma in words.  But hopefully others will join me and together we will draw on any discipline or art available to communicate what this experience means, what wisdom we gained when we looked through the lens of trauma.

Although rape will be the focus, from time to time this blog will discuss other kinds of interpersonal trauma. As with rape, all interpersonal trauma disrupts the delicate web of faith that binds us together into a human community and keeps us hopeful through the rough times of life. Even more than a lens, trauma is a furnace in which false hopes die and true hopes are refined.

This is a blog about reality, not as we wish it, but as it is. It is about how we can hold the reality of terror in one hand and the reality of hope in the other. It is about embracing one without denying the reality of the other. It is about life.

The Site Founder