Discussion List for campus-based and allied personnel working to end gender-based violence on campus.

 onthese issues - i tend to encourage a conversation by saying that Ithink 
blaming the mother is OK because we should shame any parent whoharms a child 
by action or inaction - and because shame is the leastform of punishment - 

I also talk about how the same sentiment has no place in a criminal 
lawconversation because it always translates into a discount for thecriminal 
and crime is an all or nothing situation - guilty or notguilty - (unlike in 
moral and civil tort law venues where shame, likeblame, can be divided up 
among lots of respoinsible parties - )

i also share this essay - which is important in all conversations as away of 
encouraging self-critical awareness of where our harsh judgmentscome from - 
(doesn't mean our personal biases are good or bad - justthat we need to 
understand them when making judgments)

wendy murphy


 The Patriot Ledger
Posted Oct 25, 2008 @ 06:15 AM

It started out like any other “court tour.” I called ahead to make surean 
empty courtroom was available. The kids I worked with had beenthrough so many 
scary things already. They didn’t need to bump into aconvicted murderer in 
leg chains.

Ani spoke little English. She was quiet and had one of those whippetthin 
bodies. If you lifted her up, she’d nearly fly through the airbecause she was 
so much lighter than you expected.

Ani wore red pants and a black sweater that hung crooked on her littlebody 
because it was much too big. The pants were those stretchy onesyou buy in 
bulk. Three for $10. They were so short I could see the topsof her pale pink 
ankle socks. There were dark stains on the knees, notbecause they weren’t 
clean but because they were old. After a while,some spots just don’t wash out 
of cheap clothes.

Ani walked between her mother and me as we made our way down the narrowbrick 
path that led to the courthouse. My arm kept hitting Ani’sshoulder but she 
didn’t seem to mind. I think she felt safe around me –though she never said 
so.

Ani kept her eyes down. I couldn’t see much more than the top of herhead. I 
wanted to see her face. Was she crying? I didn’t lean forwardto find out. 
Maybe I didn’t really want to know.

Ani’s mother held tight to her daughter’s hand. None of us saidanything. I 
thought about telling a joke – but I couldn’t figure outwhat would seem funny 
to a 7-year-old child who was probably thinkingabout dead mice. He always put 
dead mice in her underwear after he wasdone. It kept her quiet. Ani was more 
afraid of mice than what he didto her.

Ani’s mother never looked me straight in the eye. She had long ago leftthe 
boyfriend who tortured and abused her little girl – which was morethan I 
could say about a lot of mothers of abused kids. But I stillwanted to shake 
her and tell her what an idiot she was for leaving herchildren with such a 
monster. How could anyone date the type of man whocould rape children and 
terrorize them with dead mice?

She tried to explain it to me once – the day she came in to watch thevideo of 
her daughter’s grand jury testimony. I popped in the tape andthere was little 
Ani, sitting at a small table drawing pictures withoversized crayons. She 
talked about choking. She said she didn’t likeit when she couldn’t breathe. 
And she put her hands up to cover herears when she described how it hurt when 
he gripped her head to controlthe rhythm of his attack.

Through quiet sobs, Ani’s mother told me she was sorry. “He said heloved my 
children. He wanted to take care of them. I had no money for ababy sitter. He 
cooked dinner for us and put the children to bed when Iwent to work.”

I didn’t offer her any comfort. I wanted to slap her.

I wanted to tell her that I would have known better if Ani had been my child.

That’s what I was thinking – but I didn’t say it.

Walking to the courthouse months later – with the trial only days away– I 
still felt the same way – and I knew the jury would, too.

I thought hard that night about what I would say to the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the defendant is the only one responsible forhis 
actions. Nobody else is to blame. It really doesn’t matter thatAni’s mother 
shouldn’t have left the defendant alone night after nightto care for her 
defenseless little girl".

“It really doesn’t matter that you, members of the jury, think she wasa bad 
parent. The defendant, alone, should be held accountable.”

It sounded good – and I was 100 percent correct about the law. But itdidn’t 
feel right somehow and I wasn’t sure I could say the wordspersuasively when 
the moment came.

Lucky for me, the defendant pleaded guilty and I never had to know the answer.

I still think about Ani’s mother, and I still feel like slapping her –because 
I still need to believe that she’s nothing like me. As long asI keep telling 
myself that I would never date a dangerous man or choosethe wrong baby 
sitter, I can pretend that what happened to Ani couldnever happen to my 
children.

Wendy Murphy is a leading victims rights advocate and nationallyrecognized 
television legal analyst. She is an adjunct professor at NewEngland Law in 
Boston and a radio talk show host. She can be reached 
.