Evil is Evil, No Matter Where it Happens

A crime against a child is a crime against a child.  Personal loyalties or political/religious views should never be a factor in recognizing whether or how badly a child has been hurt.

People who make excuses for — or cheer on — Donald Trump’s disgraceful immigration policies will minimize the horror of what happened to the child in an Arizona detention facility, identified by the initials D.L.  Those people are full of shit.

People who call this the worst atrocity in history are also full of shit.  Devastating things have already happened to other kids in various past situations, and those children who were hurt deserve to have their misfortunes acknowledged — and their dignity respected.  This is true even when the assailant was a well-loved clergymember or a pediatrician who flattered mothers.

This particular news report (link to article on The Nation’s site, below) got me stirred up even worse than most accounts of Trump Immigration Nightmares because one part of it is similar to what I experienced when I was molested repeatedly as a child.  I was told — repeatedly — that it was my responsibility to stay away from the assailant.

(Note:  I was molested by more than one person.  In some cases, the assaults weren’t recognized as criminal because they were committed by respected adults.  The molester I was ordered to stay away from was an older child who lived near my home and attended the same elementary school.  Much of the abuse occurred in the schoolyard during recess, although he also loitered near my house to wait for me to step outside.  The stalking lasted more than two years, until the boy “graduated” from elementary school and moved to a different city.)

I have my own personal reasons for reacting the way I did to the story about D.L.  None of the crimes against me were taken seriously, and the adults who told cruel jokes right to my face about molestations committed by that boy were satisfied they were carrying out justice.  While I was pleading for help from anyone who would listen, ridicule was viewed as one of the ways to put a naughty little girl in her place.  I remember how that felt.  In the figurative sense, those adults were tying my hands and putting me in harm’s way, then telling me I was a disobedient, sad clown when I got hurt.  I was supposed to stay away from that boy, whose own parents were aware of his crimes and did nothing to intervene.

Example:  One of the adults who made jokes suggested the boy who was molesting me should be hired to babysit me.

There are some sick people out there.  You can’t blame it all on ignorance.

What happened to D.L. must be recognized as the unspeakable act it is.  So should every other unspeakable act against a child.  No whomp, whomp crap.  No jokes.  No blaming the victim.  No excuses.


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