I Don't Believe You!

© (2003) By Vicki Polin
Examiner - May 14, 2011
(Originally published by The Awareness Center's Daily Newsletter in 2003)

Denial is not a river in Egypt!

"I don't believe you" are words that can destroy a soul.

What would it be like for someone who survived the terrorist attacks on September 11th to disclose their experience to a trusted friend, and then be told: "No, we don't believe you, this couldn't have happened, you must be making this up."

We all know that words can hurt, but we don't truly understand why telling someone who was victimized that their story is unbelievable can be incredibly damaging.

Over the years I've received numerous letters and phone calls from members of the clergy along with other community leaders, stating that various individuals from their community had come up to them and disclosed childhood secrets. These community leaders would discuss in their letters that they felt that they had good relationships with these survivors up until the point of disclosure, but now feel things have changed. Why? You may wonder. What happened? The rabbis' response to the individuals who came to see them was that they didn't believe they were indeed abused, and that the problems they had in their lives must have been caused by some other problems. What happened was that these people reached out to their rabbis with a gesture of trust, only to have their painful, personal disclosure dismissed and or discounted.

Such a disheartening exchange holds every potential for changing the relationships between a rabbi and members of his community. Not only is the survivor placed in a position to not trust the rabbi to be there for him/her in time of need; the rabbi himself might from then on view this person as unreliable and unstable, maybe even as potentially disruptive as a potential source of "Lashon Hara" (derogatory speech, that is true). Disclosures of abuse are extremely uncomfortable to listen to. They change our perception of people we thought highly of and believed to be wholesome, to incomprehensible perpetrators. They threaten our vision of the Jewish community is immune to such atrocities. However, as tempting as automatic denial of the authenticity of abuse disclosures might be, applying it without due cause short-changes everyone in the end. By categorically denying stories of abuse rabbis do not only unintentionally deny survivors the help they need in order to heal, they may also deny the perpetrators the help they need to stop abusing. Statistics show that sexual offenders often commit an average of seventy offenses by the time they are caught.

Unless an individual has had specialized training in the area of childhood molestation-and even then only under very specific circumstances, saying "I don't believe you" to someone who shares their trauma with you can be and often is perceived as another form of abuse. As it is, it's extremely hard for a survivor to disclose his/her stories. Experiences of sexual victimization are deeply private matters that often carry a significant amount of confusion and shame. And what does a survivor have to gain from such disclosure? More times than not, there is a lot more to lose than gain. In fact, often times people disclose IN SPITE of knowing that their disclosure may stigmatize them, but do so anyway in order to help save others from going through similar ordeals. When asked, most survivors of childhood abuse state that they would rather not expose themselves that way, would rather have the whole thing go away, would rather not remember that it even happened. Yes, they often yearn for understanding and validation, and it is sometimes why people share their stories, but sadly and all too often, their fears that the people they disclosed to would not look at them in the same light ever again, manifest. All too often people who disclose stories of childhood sexual abuse end up being seen as mentally ill and manipulative, rather than as dealing with symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

True, there is often little or no proof that what people claim happened to them, actually did. At the same time, there is often little or no proof that it did not. True, it is far more comfortable to believe that things didn't happen, to hold on to the conviction that no one in your community is so corrupted that they would hurt a child this way. However, what if the stories you hear are true? How does one prove a memory when the only other witness to the event was the offender, who clearly has a vested interest in denying that it ever happened? What are you to do? How are you to decide what to believe?

It is important to remember that it is not your job to prove or disprove what you are hearing-this is what law enforcement and the judicial systems are for. When someone trusts you enough to disclose a deep dark secret, an experience as painful and devastating as childhood sexual abuse, all you are called to do is to listen, then help the survivor/s live the most productive, happy life possible. When you are chosen to bear witness to their stories, you are summoned to help them heal their "Neshema"-their spirit, their soul. You are given an opportunity to help reverse some of the damage that comes with sexual crimes, and to help the survivor see that he/she are good people, worthwhile individuals. That their experiences did not alter their birthright as a part of "Bnei-Israel." That you-the person they look up to-are there for them. That not all is lost.

There are laws in each state regarding mandated reporting to authorities when one becomes aware of possible abuse ("possible" being the operative word-all you need is the suspicion, it is up to the authorities to look into whether it is true). If you aren't already familiar with the laws in your state, call child protection services and find out what they are and if you are a mandated reporter. By listening to a disclosure, even by reporting suspected abuse, you are not proving that what the survivor told you is true or not true. Rather what you are saying to him/her is: "I respect you and your feelings enough to not dismiss you or shame you by letting my discomfort and my hope that it isn't true to come in the way of what you need, the protection that you, too, deserve."

Child abuse is a devastating reality, but it does not need to be a part of our communities' future. By listening to the people in your community and allowing those who were hurt to speak up and be heard, you can help the Jewish community as a whole take a big step toward healing. Take people's disclosure to you as a proof of their trust in you as a competent, compassionate, knowledgeable person, and suspend your personal judgment regarding the factual truth in their stories. According to both the Jewish and Secular law, "one is innocent until proven guilty"-this should include the survivor who discloses a story of abuse. Until there is clear proof that what they claim is not true (which due to the nature of the offense and the time-lag of disclosure, may not be available), saying to them "I don't believe you," deprives survivors of the same leeway that we rush to give the accused.

Many sexually abused children are told by their perpetrators, "Don't tell, because no one would believe you, because I'll say you are lying and they'll believe me, not you." Let's not make these words come true.

Incest, Pregnancy, Abortion and Halacha (Jewish Law)

© (2003) By Vicki Polin, Michael J. Salamon, and Na'ama Yehuda
Originally published by The Awareness Center

It is always difficult to talk about abortion, and even more so when religion is part of the conversation. Aside from the religious/Halachic questions, much of the debate becomes highly political. Nevertheless, it is imperative to address the extremely delicate issue of abortion, particularly when it comes to incest, sexual abuse, and sexual assault.

There is no doubt that life according to Jewish teaching is sacred. Pregnancy and procreation are encouraged as one of the most important "mitzvahs" (good deeds) for both Jewish men and women. Every person born, every "nefesh" (soul), is "as if a whole world is created" (Maimonides). That said, according to the Jewish view, we don't just make human beings: we are obligated to make humane human beings. As Jews, we are encouraged to follow a life of "Tzaddik", a word that not only refers to justice, but to proactive use of good, such as mercy to the poor and needy. Justice, "Tzaddik", is a prime Jewish virtue and needs to be applied to those already living, to our children, to their mothers, to our communities. Pregnancy is imperative to the survival of the Jewish nation. However, the life of those already living comes before the life of those yet to be born. A fetus, though precious, is not seen as having equal standing as a born person. Rashi, in his commenting on Sanhedrin 72b, says that a fetus is not deemed "nefesh"—a person—until the head emerges in the birthing process. Indeed, as a rule, the Halacha (Jewish Law) rules that a mother's health comes first. The Talmud says: "If a woman suffers hard labor and travail...her life takes precedence over it's (the fetus) life" (Mishne 6).
This precedence isn't limited to life and death situations. Take the case of a pregnant woman who had an ear infection. The doctors said that she could become deaf if she carried to term. The rabbinical response was that deafness "will ruin her life, make her miserable in all her days, make her undesirable in the eyes of her husband...therefore, she should be permitted to abort her fetus..." (Ben Zion Uziel, Mishpetei Uziel, Hoshen Mishpat, 3:46). Most religious authorities agree that not only physical health, but also the mental health of the mother is included. Under some conditions, such as to avoid disgrace in a case where a married woman got pregnant by another man, abortion is not only allowed, "it even may hold the reward of a mitzvah" (Jacob Emden, Responsa She'elat Ya'avetz, No. 34).

How can one possibly call abortion a "mitzvah"? Because sometimes the circumstances are that it is a meritorious action, a sacred choice. The right to choose an abortion has deep religious roots that are based in the "sanctity of life" and on the particular circumstances of each conception.

If a woman who strayed and got pregnant by another man might be allowed to abort the fetus—how much more so if the woman was raped? What if the fetus is the product of incest? What if the woman is still a child herself?

We believe it is up to each individual to decide for themselves the best way to handle their particular situation—and hopefully with the aid of compassionate and qualified help. Adults might have access to a support network of people to assist them. However, children often do not have such access, nor do they have the knowledge of how to handle the problem of pregnancy, or the burden of misplaced shame. For their sake, and the sake of adults without support, we find that it is of importance to suggest the following basic guidelines:

A. We strongly advocate that a minor, or an adult without a support network, find an adult with whom they can confide.

B. This person should be someone who is more than just trustworthy and someone the victim feels comfortable with, but someone who can give guidance and direction.

C. The supportive adult need not be the minor's parent (especially if the pregnancy is due to dysfunctional family patters and/or incest...): he or she could be a teacher, rabbi, neighbor, therapist, rape crisis counselor, medical doctor, or another trained professional.

D. Schools and communities need to provide sex-education programs that include information about rape-prevention, rape-crisis centers and hot-line numbers, so that minors in need know where to go.

E. Teachers and rabbis need to educate themselves about resources in their community, the legal and ethical issues of reporting child-abuse, and the Halachic ruling and/or resources in cases of pregnancies that are the product of rape and/or incest.

Perhaps it could be efficacious to further discuss these delicate situations anecdotally. Case histories of survivors who faced these dilemmas can help us gain critical insight for how to best address such troubling issues.

Diana was thirteen when she became pregnant by her father. She had no idea what was happening to her body. She'd gotten her period for the first time just the year before. When her period was late, she didn't feel like she could tell her mother—so she told one of her friends, Mandy, who had an older sister named Sarah. The three girls spent a lot of time talking and together they decided to call pregnancy hotlines to see what they suggested. What they learned was that if Diana said she was 15 or 16, she could have an abortion without telling her parents, but if she was younger she needed a parent's permission to abort. Diana would have to lie. The three girls made a plan: Mandy and Sarah would tell Diana's parents that Diana was coming to spend the weekend with them, and tell their parents that Diana's parents were going out of town and wanted Diana to stay with them. That Friday, the three girls cut school and went to the abortion clinic. When they were done they came home, and the sisters told their parents that Diana had the flu—an excuse for Diana to stay in bed for a few days to heal. If these girls had a trusted adult to approach, they would not have had to sneak around. Diana wouldn't have had to lie and possibly risk her life. The incest could have been stopped. Had their school provided a sex education program that included information on rape prevention and education, the girls would have known who to go to, Diana would have learned that there was help available to her. She would have known she was not to blame.

Esther was the typical teenager. Coming from a modest, religious home, she was an average student, very active in high school, and had many friends. However, she also had a secret. One she never shared. Esther was an incest survivor. Her father began molesting her at very early age, so much so that Esther couldn't remember her father not bedding with her. As she matured, Esther faced a dilemma—at sixteen, she had a boyfriend, Joel, and wanted to be sexually active with him. However, how could she sleep with Joel if she was also "sleeping" with her father? Having grown with incest as part of her life, and with secrecy, she couldn't see at the time how this conflict was intrinsically wrong! Esther decided that she would refuse her father, even though she knew such refusal would come at a price—refusing her father meant that he would become even more physically abusive to her than before. Esther knew the sacrifice she was making but wanted to be "true" to Joel.

Late every night her father would try to enter her bed, but Esther would tell him no. And every following day he'd find some reason to punish her, often to beat her. When her father's violence started getting to her, Esther remembered how her father would never sleep with her if she had her period. So every night before she went to bed, she would insert a tampon, and when her father came would tell him "not tonight daddy, I've got my period." At first he'd leave, and she was safe for another night, but after several weeks, when she told him once again that she had her period, her father erupted with rage, punched her, and pulled the tampon out, stating "I knew you were lying!" He then raped her.

Two weeks went by and Esther realized that she didn't get her period. As more days passed, she got very scared. She was never late before! Somewhere inside she knew she was pregnant. She didn't know what to do. Also, was she pregnant by Joel, or was she pregnant by her father's sexual assault? Joel had no idea that Esther was an incest survivor. He knew of the physical violence, but didn't know what to do about it. Esther decided to tell Joel that she was pregnant by him, and the two of them decided that it would be best for her to get an abortion. Esther was relieved—her real fear was that the baby was really a result of the rape... She needed help, but she didn't know what to do or who to talk to. Imagine how horrible it must be to be sixteen and not sure if you are pregnant by your boyfriend or your father!

As extreme as Esther's case might seem there are all too many like her, and if not properly addressed the ramifications of these situations can last a lifetime. Esther knew that she could never go to her mother for advice—her mother was herself a battered woman and as it was Esther felt responsible for her mother being hurt, often putting herself between her mother and father so that she would get hurt instead of her mom. Esther ended up keeping a terrible secret and going through the abortion by herself.

Unaddressed trauma can often last a lifetime. From the time she was 11 until she was 17, Varda was repeatedly raped by her older brother. She, too, had an abortion when she was 15. She, too, had to go through it alone. Telling her parents that she was going to visit summer-camp friends for a long weekend, Varda took a train out of state and paid for an abortion and a three-day stay at a motel with the money she earned baby-sitting. She had no one to ask for references about the abortion clinic she found in the yellow-pages, no one to help her when her fever shot up and she bled heavily and could barely keep down food or drink. Her parents never asked any questions. Twelve years later, at the age of 27, Varda is single. She makes excuses when she is offered dates and fears getting close to anyone—she is too scarred inside to have children. She is too ashamed to say why. Varda now lives alone and gets panic attacks whenever she goes to visit her family and sees her nephew play with her nieces or whenever she has to sit to the same table as her brother. She has difficulty sleeping and tends to withdraw from social activities. She suffers from severe clinical depression. Though there's no guarantee that early emotional support and clinical intervention could have prevented Varda's long-term consequences of trauma, maybe if she had someone to talk to, she wouldn't have ended up in a shady clinic, would be able to deal with the incest and raise a family of her own. She'd be spared the pain she is still going through now.

Jewish law teaches us that life is sacred, and that we are to cherish the living over the unborn. All the more so when the unborn was conceived through inconceivable acts. Following the teachings of " ", we are called to provide the needy and destitute with compassion and real-life help. Incest and rape can and do result in pregnancies. While we work to end sexual assault in our communities, we need to open our hearts and minds to support the victims of such crimes and to offer them information and help in their time of excruciating decisions. We need to let survivors of rape and incest see and feel that they hold no shame in our eyes—the shame is on those who hurt them. Let's educate our children so that they are no longer vulnerable, and educate ourselves so that we can help the ones who were taken advantage of. Abortion is never an easy thing to do, but in some cases it is not only allowed, it can even hold the reward of a Mitzvah!

Soul Searching: Sexual abuse, cults, and missionaries

© (2003 ) By Vicki Polin and Na'ama Yehuda
Originally publish by The Awareness Center

Thou shalt not go up and down as a talebearer among thy people; neither shalt thou stand idly by the blood of thy neighbor" (Leviticus 19:16).

Where is God? Is he/she really out there? If there really is a God why did he/she allow me to get hurt as a child? These are very common question amongst survivors of childhood sexual abuse. But why should we care? After all, Jews don't abuse their children! Or do they?

Unfortunately, in the past many Jewish survivors of sexual abuse have been met with denial, rationalizations, and blame from various "trusted officials" in the Jewish community when they'd reached out for help. It's still not uncommon for a survivor to go to various rabbinical authorities with their questions; and end up feeling rejected when they disclosed their abuse histories. Time after time adults who, as children, were subjected to sexual criminal activities, were told that the mere fact that they were disclosing their victimization was considered lashon hara ('derogatory speech, that is true'). Basically meaning the fact that they were speaking out, was wrong.

Did you ever stop and wonder "What happens to an individual who feels betrayed by their own community?" Some survivors may try to find another rabbi to talk to, but all too often doing so, seems like a futile task. After all, how many times does a person have to feel rejected? It is important to remember that survivors are not unlike ourselves--they are searching for answers. Jewish survivors of childhood abuse need to hear loud and clear that they were NOT and are NOT to blame; that God did not cause the abuse as some form of punishment. Survivors need to know that they are NOT innately "bad." However, when an individual is told that their disclosure in of itself is considered " lashon hara". . . what they hear is: "God hates me", "I must be the one who's bad." Keeping this in mind, where can a survivor of childhood sexual abuse go to for spiritual guidance? Especially when they already feel that they have been rejected by our rabbis and possibly the rest of our community. Many will continue on, searching for a spiritual identity. Sadly, all too often they fall prey to missionaries and cult leaders, or just drift into some form of eclectic spirituality.

Statistics in the United States depict that one out of every 3-5 women and one out of 5-7 men have been sexually abused by the time they reached their 18th birthday. General research about cult and cult-like groups indicate a high percentage of members who have been victims of childhood abuse. Unfortunately, at this time there is no data specifying the percentage of "Jewish cult victims" who have histories of childhood sexual abuse.

According to facts provided by Jews for Judaism, nearly 1.4 million of the approximately 5.5. million adults of Jewish parentage and/or upbringing in the United States, affiliate with or have converted to a religion other than Judaism. There are over 900 separate missionary groups targeting Jewish communities for conversion, with over $250 million spent annually.

The cult problem is so prevalent, that the chances of a family member joining a cult are greater than a family member catching chicken pox, four times greater than contracting AIDS, 90 times greater than contracting measles, and 45,000 times greater than contracting polio. (Dr. Paul Martin, director of Wellspring Retreat and Resource Center, Ohio). When we consider the relationship between childhood sexual abuse and joining cults in the general population, and in light on the above statistics, we need to face the very real possibility that there is a correlation between childhood sexual abuse and the numbers of Jews who leave Judaism. We desperately need to confront and address these problems.

Clearly, it is extremely difficult to even entertain the thought that Jews would abuse their own children, let alone that individuals who represent Jewish life and have a connection with Torah would. "How could they (e.g. Rabbis, teachers, youth leaders) do anything so terrible as commit sexual offenses against our children"? The problem is that when these issues are brought up, they are met with denial, dismissal, protection of the alleged offender(s), and various other forms of rationalizations.

All too often both professionals in the field and survivors will hear things such as: "Why bring the stuff up now?" "Why muddy up people's reputation, after all the good they've done for so many?" Once again, we need to be reminded that innocent children are getting hurt. When we deny someone who has been violated a voice, we face loosing them to other religions. When we turn a blind eye, we are saying that it is okay for our children to be the next ones hurt.

We are all aware today of what's happening in the Catholic Church. However, Jewish communities around the globe have been guilty of same or similar actions. As a community, we need to stop discounting survivors stories, rationalizing that they couldn't have happened, and/or covering up the truth. We need to stop blaming victims. It's time to break this cycle!

Nothing would make us happier than to be able to say that the Jewish community is immune to such atrocities, but sadly it is not. "Letting by gones be by gones" is hardly the way to start healing the deep wounds many in our community are suffering. We can no longer go along with saying "an event happened such a long time ago, why talk about it now, just get past it." Please note that for many victims of sexual abuse, time may past, but on an emotional level the abuse just happened. They develop something called: PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder).

We need to let the victims/survivors of sexual crimes have a voice (the actions done to them were criminal offenses)--they need to be heard, and validated, not be re-victimized. It is important that we stop telling them to "hush up." Remember the statistics: one out of every 3-5 women, and one out of every 5 -7 men in our communities were most likely sexually victimized as children. If we want to keep them Jewish, it's time that we BELIEVE our children (and the adult survivors).

As a people, we need to do something NOW. We can't allow one more child to be hurt. If we do, we face the fact that another disillusioned Jew may fall prey to another missionary and/or cult.

Rabbis Of The World . . . Can You Hear Me Now?

Reprinted by Permission © (2003) By Kelly Greene

Originally published in The Awareness Center's Daily Newsletter

Dear Rabbis of the World,

How can I get your attention? Will you stop what you are doing and take the time to learn about me and childhood sexual abuse?

I'm writing you this from my heart. I know that my words represents the thoughts and feelings of thousands of Jewish survivors of childhood sexual abuse when I say that we have been calling out to you for generations.

We have been begging you to help us. As a result, we have had doors slam in our faces, and have been excommunicated by our families, friends and our communities. We need this to stop. We want to work with you, and help you learn. We want to make the world a safe place for children. We want to make the Jewish community a safe place for adult survivors. We want to work towards the goal of all of us becoming one nation.

I know that over the years many survivors have been investigating why you don't know about us (or childhood sexual abuse). We don't blame you. But we need to make changes today, right this second.

We understand the majority of yeshiva's don't educate rabbis on abuse issues. We understand that most of you are afraid of the topic, and hence afraid of us. Our presence makes you feel uncomfortable. Our essences remind you of the evils that lurk in the world. But to end this evil, we need to work together as a team.

I know for myself that I know nothing about God. In the past I have seen God and any form of organized religion as evil. I still see God as an abusive force. I have difficulties wanting to have a Jewish identity. I will admit, I have been hurt by the Jewish community. I keep asking myself, why would I want to be a part of something that has hurt me?

I need you to help me see things differently. I need you to share your thoughts and feelings with me. I need to hear you explain why I was abused. I need you to explain what purpose it all serves. I need you to communicate with me on a level that I can understand.

Over the years I've spoken to many abuse survivors, who have questions for you. All to often we feel that you turn away from us. In the past you have told us our disclosures were lashon hara. We ended up feeling that we were the cause of our own victimization. The truth of the matter is that ignorance is to blame. We need to terminate this ignorance. We need to have a dialog. Please answer the questions we have for you, help us understand. Please don't be afraid of us.

Can we start a dialog? Can I ask you questions about God, and will you ask me questions about victimization and surviving? Can we work together as a team? Can you teach me not to be afraid of you, and God? Can I teach you not to be afraid of me?