Let the children fight

Growing up, I always loved the movie Matilda.

This movie told a story about a smart young girl that experienced all types of abuse but overcame it all with her brilliant mind and the help of a sweet teacher.

I always felt like a kindred spirit with this sweet little girl.

We all want to know that we are loved unconditionally. Most of the time we learn that from our parents.

Matilda never learned that from her parents because they could not see past their own wants in life.

When she went to school, Matilda faced another kind of abuse at the hands of the Trunchbull.

Trunchbull, Matilda’s school principal, demanded perfect obedience or she would subject the students to various torture.

As completely average children every one of us consistently failed to meet expectations.

In pursuit of childhood discovery, we flushed our dad’s keys down the toilet, used mom’s good silver dishes as homes for our pet worms, and filled the house with noise and chaos.

We did not clean our rooms.

We stayed out far too late.

“I hate you,” fell out of our mouths as we slammed our doors.

Yet, we knew, no matter what, our parents would “love us forever” and “like us for always,” like the classic children’s book says.

April is Child Abuse Awareness Month, and it makes me think of all those children that don’t know this unconditional love.

What about those of us that never had the chance to develop this absolute truth?

What about those of us who learned that each misstep, each wrong word, each time we lost our cool, we also lost what little love we would receive?

According to Child Protect Child Advocacy Center, in the United States, 3.6 million cases of child abuse are reported every year.

For every incident of child abuse or neglect that’s reported, an estimated two incidents go unreported.

This means an estimated 10.8 million incidents of child abuse occur annually in America.

As a survivor of childhood abuse who saw herself in the character of Matilda, those numbers are terrifying. As a mother wanting only the best for my children, the numbers break my heart.

Meeting people in adulthood means that I commonly find myself explaining that I do not have a relationship with my own mother.

With that, I am met with these puzzled sympathetic looks and many questions asking, “why?”

“Well,” I always begin. “One of my most vivid memories of my mother is her pulling me down these wooden stairs by my hair, and I can’t even remember why.”

People often become uncomfortable at the frankness, but that was my life.

I never knew what would cause my mother to lose her cool. I never knew when she would be able to parent me. I learned early in life that if I needed something, it would not come from her.

Now, yes, I did turn out OK.

I attribute the successes in my life to the pockets of safety orchestrated by God and provided by family, friends, teachers, and strangers along the way.

Even Matilda had Miss Honey, her classroom teacher, come alongside her and provide a safe space.

Not everyone comes out the other side OK, though.

According to Child Protect, abused and neglected children are 11 times more likely to engage in criminal behavior as an adult.

Of all the men in prison, 14% were abused as children, and 36% of female inmates experienced the same.

“Abused children are less likely to practice safe sex, putting them at greater risk for STDs,” Child Protect states. “They’re also 25% more likely to experience teen pregnancy.”

While I, thankfully, landed somewhere different, I could have easily become one of these statistics.

I have not, however, emerged unscathed.

As a child, I hid in my closet to find peace, stayed with friends for weeks, learned to hide messes from social workers, and developed a thick skin I don’t know how to shake.

I learned to hide, run, and fight. In that, I learned how to bubble-wrap my own kids.

Every day I look at my children, I understand my mother’s inability to love me even less.

I would lay down my life for my children without a hesitating thought.

Recently, while watching [Italics] Matilda the Musical, I realized somewhere along the way, I lost some of the fight we see in this brave child.

Throughout both the movie and the musical, Matilda finds ways to balance the scales of justice.

She fights hard and refuses to accept the broken way the world treats her.

Upending her father’s scam of a car dealership, standing up to the Trunchbull, and taking matters into her own hands, Matilda shows strength and resiliency as she fights for better.

After learning firsthand that I cannot protect my children from everything that might hurt them, Matilda inspired me.

My children are not helpless. They are fierce.

My children are not broken. They are strong.

When faced with those that wish to force them into blind obedience, I wish to equip my children with the fight I always admired in Matilda.

Each of us, moms, dads, cousins, teachers, and friends, can do the same.

Just like Miss Honey offered what little she had, we will do that same.

I pray that my children will find strength knowing they have me, their own Miss Honey, in their corner.

Like Miss Honey, I understand the hardships that life has dealt them, and I will always give them a safe space to exist.

In doing this, we will help this next generation find safety which will give them the leg-up needed to be like Matilda and tear apart everything that supports treating others as less.

When I am not with them, however, I want them to fight.

I want them to dismantle injustice, refuse blanket compliance, and defend those that can’t, because with the love and support of their mother, I am confident they can.

If we see something, we will say something, every time.

We will call out injustice, just like Matilda.

“Daddy, you're a crook,” Matilda boldly told her father as he bandaged up used cars to sell to unsuspecting customers.

When it seems too dark, and like the only answer is to run and hide, think to a future where the ones we love and protect now, do even better for those that come next.

Contrary to what Matilda’s dad tells her, these children aren’t dumb, they’re smart. They aren’t too little to stand up for what’s right.

Let’s not believe the lie told by Matilda’s father that says, “ … there’s nothing you can do about it.”

If you suspect child abuse call the Child Abuse Hotline at 1-800-362-2178 anytime.

Comments: AnnaMarie.Ward@southeastiowaunion.com