I’ve thought a lot about whether I should write this post or not. It’s deeply personal and involves an indiscretion on the part of one of my sons who doesn’t have control over what I write (though I did get his permission before I posted this). And I just wrote a post about how great my life is (and it is) and what would people on social media think if I showed a little rust on my halo! Cue anguish, turmoil, indecision. But ultimately, I care more about the issue than what people think of my personal life so here we go.
The Stanford Rape case involving Brock Turner has enraged me along with millions of other men and women around the world. A six month sentence for rape is bad enough but the way Brock, his lawyer and now his father have tried to turn him into the victim is what truly set me over the edge. I don’t specifically want to talk about the rape or the court case in this post but rather the parenting that has been on display.
The victimisation of the perpetrator in this case reminds me a lot of Oscar Pistorius crying over the fact that jail was going to be so hard for him and lamenting over why he was being made to suffer. The thing that struck me about that case was not the murder itself (and yes, a court of law now allows me to call it that) but rather the numerous events that had happened leading up to that fateful night in February 2013 and the actions of those around dear Oscar.
We learnt during his trial that every time Oscar acted out, someone covered it up for him, excused his behaviour, swept it under the carpet, brushed it aside, the euphemisms can go on and on but basically, they absolved him of all responsibility and consequence. The same thing has happened with Brock Turner. His own father is more concerned with Brock not wanting to eat his steak anymore than the fact that he wilfully and deliberately violated an unconscious woman on the side of the road.
These men have been told by every single person close to them that what they did was not their fault, that not only shouldn’t they be punished for what they did, they are now being victimised by even having to defend their actions. They are actually the innocent party in this cruel twist of fate that had nothing to do with their actions but rather some uncontrollable outside force that seeks to destroy their lives for no other reason than…who knows what reason they give, I sure don’t.
But this is the part where I want to talk about parenting. I can assure you (and in Oscar’s case have the specific examples) that these men had many times during their early years where they stepped out of line, crossed boundaries and generally displayed unbecoming behaviour and I can also assure you that in each one of those instances their parents/guardians came to their defence so resoundingly and definitively that by the end of the episode, the boys did not face any consequence to their actions. They were not punished and, in so doing, were absolved of responsibility and had no reason to think they had done anything wrong.
A case in point – a few years ago when we were living at a golf estate in the North West Province, some teenage boys broke into the boat club bar one night to have a little underage booze up. A security guard caught them and do you know what the first reaction of the boys was? They tried to bribe the security guard. Unfortunately for them, the gentleman valued his job more than the R100 the boys offered and so the head of security was summoned, the police were called and the boys parents were informed of the incident.
Now, what do we think was the outcome of all of this? Well, if you are following the gist of my post, the outcome was…nothing. The PARENTS of the boys went to the HOA and pleaded for leniency. They convinced the head of security that the boys were young and they had made a mistake and that they shouldn’t be punished for a few minutes of stupidity. And so no charges were pressed, no punishment was doled out and absolutely no consequences were met. The HOA sent out a letter informing all the residence that there had been a security breach (as they are required to do) but assured us that the boys had learnt a valuable lesson from this incident and would never repeat it.
Honestly, my first thought was ‘well, they may have learnt from the incident but it’s not to never do it again.’ All I could see was that these boys had learnt that if they get into trouble, their parents will bend over backwards to get them out again. It might not have been said directly but the lesson for me was – if you are white and wealthy and male, you don’t have to take responsibility for anything. Daddy will bail you out. And for me, the fact that their first thought had been to try and bribe the poor, black security guard showed that this was just another in a long line of reinforcement in that belief.
(Side note: let’s imagine for a second if the security guard had taken the bribe and then been caught himself. Do we think leniency would have been shown to him or do we think -oh, no wait, sorry, I can’t hear you over the slamming of the jail cell door.)
So here’s where this becomes personal. A few days ago I got a call from my son’s school informing me that he had been suspended (take a moment to gasp in shock and horror, come back when you have composed yourself). He had an altercation with a girl who was irritating him, lost his temper and he had sworn at her and shoved her. The principal informed me that he had spoken to both of them but, due to the fact that this was not my son’s first infraction with swearing, he needed to be punished and so was suspended for one day.
This was not my proudest Mom moment. I have to say that I am deeply disappointed in my child’s behaviour but I’m also deeply disappointed in my parenting. Once the rushing in my ears had died down all I could think was ‘how have things gotten so out of control?’ Because that’s what this is. This is a self control issue, plain and simple, and my darling son was not displaying any.
Now I could have chosen to defend my son, to call into question the actions of the girl who was provoking my precious boy, to plead and cajole and subtly threaten the principal. I could have convinced the principal that my baby was still adjusting to the new environment and that he was suffering from the stress of moving and that this punishment was going to cause him such embarrassment that it was going to psychologically scar him for life and truthfully, I could have probably arranged for another chance to be given to my child.
But I didn’t.
My boy came home embarrassed and contrite. He offered his side of the story, he cried and then he accepted his punishment. And his punishment wasn’t Yay, a day off school! Firstly, he lost the use of his electronics. Then we had a long chat about his feelings, his anger and his lack of control. He read the story of Cain in the Bible and I had him look up and write out all the relevant versus about anger and holding your tongue. He had to think of a list of things that he should have and could have done to extricate himself from the situation he found himself in. I took him down to the beach and made him pick up litter and used it as a metaphor for how he shouldn’t treat people like trash and then I asked him to write apology letters to the girl, her parents and the principal of his school.
I stood by him for the entire day, I never once yelled at him, got upset with him or berated him. I did tell him I was disappointed in his behaviour. I did tell him that I expected him to learn from this and I did tell him that I loved him. I had to show him that I would love him no matter what he did but I couldn’t defend his actions. I had to show him that he was a wonderful, amazing boy but that his actions were wrong, that his choice had been the wrong one and that he needed to take responsibility for that because I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, defend the indefensible.
My son made a mistake, yes, but that mistake has consequences. He hurt that girl with what he did and he didn’t need me to shelter him from that. He needed to take that head on and realise the effect his actions have on others. He needs to learn to think before he speaks in the future, so that he learns to think before he does in the future, so that he doesn’t grow up thinking so much of himself and so little of other people, especially woman, that he lands up raping a girl that he found lying behind a dumpster in the future.
I understand that this is an extreme jump but I do not believe that boys are born rapists, I believe they are raised believing that they are the kings of the universe and that they are entitled to anything and everything their little hearts desire and I believe the actions of their parents reinforce that idea as displayed by Brock Turner’s father.
I hope this has been a wake up call for my son, and for me, that we need to do better. That he needs to be more self aware and that I need to help him assemble the tools he needs to become a good man and a decent human being capable of compassion and empathy. I want him to be someone who takes responsibility for his actions, someone who will try his best not to hurt others and if he does, then to acknowledge the hurt, apologise and then try not to do it again. I want him to know the difference between right and wrong and to know that line doesn’t have anything to do with your gender, the colour of your skin or the money in your wallet.
Chat soon
E xx
P.S. Sorry for not putting a picture up but I had no idea what would be appropriate to go with this.
mention has to go to my new favourite spirit in the whole wide world – Mastiha (pronounced mastika) It is made on the tiny island of Chi
Me vs the laundry basket 