We’d lost her before. My ex-husband, ignoring court orders, had kidnapped and hidden her. It took three years to find her. The first thought that crossed our minds, as it always did when she was we late, was that he’d taken her again. But we found a classmate who’d seen her. She told us, “Kelly was on the school bus telling everyone that she was running away.”
We digested this. Where would she go? Was she hitchhiking, easy prey for some weirdo? But most of all we asked, “why?” Sure, my children, unlike most of their friends, have household chores. And, yes, we do expect them to conform to some rules–like keeping their bedrooms clean and doing their best in school. But I’ve always prided myself on trying to be their friend. “Come to me with your problems. Let’s talk them out.” Maybe that’s impossible in today’s world.
Anyway, three hours after Kelly was dropped off at a friend’s bus stop, we got a call from a deputy sheriff. “Your daughter is fine. I have her with me. And she has reported your husband for child abuse. Extreme and ongoing.”
Everything fell into place. That morning before school. she had been punished for her continued refusal to clean up a mess she’d made. My husband, her stepdad, gave her three whacks on the behind, open-handed, over her blue jeans. In this family, corporal punishment is a last resort. In the eight years since we got her back from my ex-husband, this was only the second time we’d had to use it. This is a parent’s prerogative. He’d done nothing wrong or illegal. My husband is not abusive. He stepped into my life nine years ago. He chose to help me raise my three children and has done so with love. I’m not saying he’s perfect, but then who is?
Kelly ran off, crying. On the way to the bus stop, she stopped by a friend’s house. The child’s mother asked what was wrong. “My stepfather hit me.”
That was all it took to set off the horrible chain of events that followed. Kelly became the center of attention as her friend’s mother called the school to report abuse. There was no blood, no bruises. She didn’t call or come by to talk to us. Instead she chose to involve the authorities.
The school counselor called in Kelly who, by that time, had embellished the story. “He always hits me.” Wasn’t it nice that so many people were giving her bugs and feeling sorry for her? The counselor then called in the sheriff and social services. Never mind that there was no physical evidence of abuse, that there had never been any sign of abuse in all the years she’d been at the school. Never mind that she had a B+ average, an outgoing personality and a teacher who’d had no problems with her in the classroom.
Regardless, the counselor told Kelly to take the school bus to a friend’s house until social services could pick her up there. So she did. But the child’s mother told Kelly, “Your parents will find you here.” She whisked Kelly into her van and drove her to another woman’s house.
These women were among those I had gone to in tears, fearing that Kelly had come to harm. They calmly told me they hadn’t seen her. Yet, at that very moment, she was bidden in the van, parked not 10 feet from where I stood.
Finally, Kelly came home in a squad car. Luckily, the deputy bad conducted a fair investigation and found no signs of abuse. He had dealt with many such cases and could tell, by her demeanor, that this 12-year-old, egged on by people too willing to believe the worst about their neighbors, was making up stories.
He lectured Kelly about filing false police reports and the “joys” of living in juvenile or foster homes. He told her he’d seen true child abuse and that be knew her stories were bull. He also told her that parents have the right to discipline their children. He reported to his office that the charges were unfounded. Even after all that, social services came around to ask more questions, another investigation that resulted in their finding absolutely no evidence of child abuse.
Don’t get me wrong. I understand the need to protect innocent children. I know there are abusive parents and stepparents out there. But there must be evidence, not just the word of an angry child who thinks it is an easy way to get back at a parent. Where are our rights?
This episode has turned our lives upside down. My husband and I are professionals, active in the community, and it has impugned our reputations irreparably. No matter that there was no foundation to the charges, schoolmates told their families, friends told friends, neighbors saw my daughter brought home in a police car. Most will still believe that Kelly was abused, as will many of the school’s personnel.
Is it just a coincidence that only the week before my daughter had completed a Child Abuse Prevention program in her school? It defined for her what constitutes “child abuse” in the eves of the law. She knew exactly what to say to get everyone’s attention. I would like to remove my children from this school system which, by its policies, encourages children to run to them in anger and to stick to their lies. However, there are few alternatives.
Friendships were broken, relationships wounded. And, despite our hard work, one of the most fragile relationships–that of daughter and stepfather–will never be the same. We’re still trying to overcome our hurt and betrayal.
In the larger scheme of things, we must identify and prevent child abuse. But we must also discourage modernday witch hunts that tear innocent lives apart. It is too dear a price to pay.
