By A.N. Bayat
You don’t take chances with the life of a child. The system is flawed. Parents allowed to commit fraud to further an agenda, social workers doing the minimum if at all of their duties to “fill out the paperwork,” and supervisors covering the flaws instead of putting the children first. Add to all the flaws in the social system to the justice system, those willing to look the other way at the cost of a child, their little lives at the mercy of a system caving-in within itself.
She was messed up and strung out for years on diet pills, a myriad of anti-psychotics and anti-depressants. She was the product of massive child, sexual abuse, incest and violence. She was good at hiding her addictions, and obsessions…the extremes of her emotional breakdowns and rages…until she wasn’t.
A parent with a stable background wants to do better for their child. A dad in society can easily become a victim of the system and it’s blind assumptions.
Even when you want to help, they have to want to be helped.
He showed up one day, this little smile on his face, happy to see me as usual and a deep dark angry bruise across his eyes. I was afraid to question her. I knew in her extremes that she’d easily take him, without considering his feelings and not allow him to stay. One black eye one week, another black eye another week and finally at the tail end of her abandonment the little one with a burn on his arm…all questions deflected…that gut wrenching feeling when she avoided eye contact and skimmed over details of these sudden vicious signs of abuse.
I wanted him to be safe. I knew if I reported it the system would fail and her usual lies would be accepted as truth. She’d lived it. She’s explained it, how her parents had used the system against her…the bias and conflict of interest in the court systems. The justice system doesn’t work to protect the innocent. It works to defend the deceitful and the liars. The liars like her, who long ago as a child, learn to manipulate, lie and abuse the system. She relied on her aspects of truth, on her aspects of victim to form a truth only she could accept.
As she spiraled out of control. followed base desire and abandonment, my only concern was for him…the innocent little life that would pay for the sins of her parents and now hers.
A good mother would not put her ego over her child’s best interest.
There were moments and days where I saw the signs. But, like any other of those complicit, I began to see it in his eyes. But, never more than those last days before she was gone. She’d become the bane of his existence. How does a child find peace in a home full of chaos and deceit? How did she ever find peace? She became violent, aggressive, angry and sexually promiscuous.
What do you do? “Why didn’t you report it?” “Why didn’t dad report it?”
Don’t blame the abuser. Blame those who didn’t know what to do or how to react at the subtle signs until it was too late. Don’t hold the abuser accountable. Don’t make it about the best interest of the child. Instead allow the bias to seep through and do what is best for the mother, be it she is a drug addict, a rapist, a violent sexual offender or an abusive rage filled alcoholic.
What do you do? You protect him and sit and watch for months while he’s still in her care. You risk that one day you find out something happened to him. Because the system believes the lies. So what do you do? You give a voice to that which has no voice. You speak for the child.
You gather the evidence to expose the violence, the and horror of a life in order to save another.