Wednesday, August 27, 2008
abuse
Yesterday I was at the bus stop with Shari at 5th & James and I saw a little boy who was two years old, he couldn't have been three yet, and his mom was yelling at him. She told him to stand in one place and not move. He took a little step to the side, like two year olds do. She yanked his arm and yelled at him "If you don't stand still I'm going to pull your motherfucking pants down and spank your motherfucking ass right here" and I pulled her off of him and said "Don't talk to him that way!" She picked him up and said "I'll talk to him however I want, you back the fuck off!" and she walked away with him. I followed her and said "You shouldn't talk to him like that, you need to take care of him!" and she said "I do take care of him, bitch!" and she took some steps towards me. I hoped she would hit me so that the police would have to take a report and her son could go into protective custody, because if she does that to him on the street at a busy bus stop, what does she treat him like at home? We were in front of the jail and there should have been cops around somewhere but there were none. She didn't hit me though and started walking away. I followed her and said "He's totally helpless, you can't treat him like that" and she said "Shut the fuck up, bitch!" I said "He's a sweet boy, you need to be sweet to him." I was totally yelling at her and her little boy looked back at me while he was being carried away and I wanted to grab him. She set him down and yanked his arm so hard as she went around the corner. I followed her and looked up the hill to where she was at another bus stop and she saw me and grabbed the boy again and went around another corner where I couldn't see her. I wonder if I made it worse for that little boy, I wonder if she took it out on him later, she already said extra bad words in front of him while she was yelling at me and she yanked his arm a couple times to get him away from me. I hate that for him so much. This is how mental illness and downward spirals start because when you're taught from so young that you're not worth anything you believe it.
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8 comments:
holy crap. you do all you can and all you're left with is an overwhelming feeling of not being able to do anything for him. if you could have that interaction all over again, would you do the same thing? React the same way? Say the same words?
Yeah, but I would have found a police officer and told him about it.
I'm sorry it ended unresolved the way it did, but good on your for confronting her about it. I'd have been horrified and too gutless to do anything about it, probably. :(
Your words are there, in his subconscious. And maybe, as she continues to treat him like crap throughout his life, he'll remember another voice saying that he is good, and maybe at least part of him will believe it.
I am glad you did say something and defend that little boy, i know others around had to have seen the interaction. This may sound lame, but i am praying for him to get rescued from an awfull, horrific mom and situation. mmmmfrickingrrrr.
I am glad you did say something and you did make her move away,maybe she will fricken start to think. I know that little boy heard your words and felt your protection for him. I am sorry no cops were around to get help for him. Makes me want to hang around that area and see if she comes up again and steal the little boy away. sucks totaly, makes me very sad and angry for the little guy sighhh!!
so sorry for that little boy, but you did the right thing.
I was reading "Tell Me About It" by Carolyn Hax today in my local paper today and came across this story. It made me think about this blog...I think you did the right thing:
On angry parents, and intervening:
My stepfather physically, verbally and emotionally abused me until I fled at 15. His power trip was mostly conducted at home, but sometimes it would happen in public, and sometimes it would happen in front of his loser buddies. The years I lived with him were so hard, but it was vastly worse when someone would see it happening and do nothing. Then the problem wasn't my stepfather -- the problem was the world.
I'd have taken 10 extra beatings with a smile if any stranger had ever stopped and communicated, directly or indirectly, that I was right to believe that what was happening was wrong. I can assure you I got those 10 beatings anyway -- they happened all the time and on any pretext -- just without the quiet anesthetic victory that a stranger's concern might have been.
For reasons that are probably obvious, I am enormously conflict-averse as an adult. But I hope so much that if I ever see a child suffering in any of the ways I suffered, I will be able to stand and speak. I hope anyone would.
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