David's Story: The Neighbor Who Didn't Call
David, 52, heard domestic violence through apartment walls for months
"I heard them fighting almost every night. Him yelling, her crying, things breaking. Sometimes I'd hear her begging him to stop, to calm down, to not wake the kids.
I knew what was happening. You can't hear that and not know.
But I didn't call the police. Not once in the eight months I lived next door to them.
I told myself all the usual things: It's not my business. Maybe it's not as bad as it sounds. She hasn't asked for help. Couples fight. What if I'm wrong and make things awkward? What if calling the police makes him angrier and puts her in more danger?
Every excuse felt reasonable at the time. Looking back, they were just cowardice dressed up as caution.
One night I heard her scream differently—pure terror, not just anger or pain. I heard crashes and the kids crying. I finally picked up the phone to call 911.
The police got there too late. He'd beaten her so badly she was in a coma for two weeks. She survived, barely, with permanent brain damage. The kids saw the whole thing.
The police asked me if I'd heard anything before that night. I lied. I said no. I didn't want to face that I'd listened to months of abuse and done nothing.
But I can't escape it. I hear those screams in my sleep. I see those kids' faces—they came out in pajamas while the paramedics worked on their mother. They looked so small and scared.
I could have called the police months earlier. Maybe nothing would have changed. But maybe she'd still be able to walk and talk and remember her children's names.
I'll never know. And I'll carry that for the rest of my life.
What I've learned: The excuses that feel reasonable in the moment are usually just fear. Fear of being wrong, fear of getting involved, fear of making it your problem. But living with the consequences of inaction is worse than any of those fears."
I posted 2 TRUE stories from my book, I want you to know how dangerous it can be to recognize the suffering kids and adults endure and that sometimes the pain of being ignored or not believed is greater then the abuse.
I want to open everyone's eye to the know the damage that abuser's cause and what we can do collectively to make a DIFFERENCE!
Prayers,
Curtis & Mandie
Jennifer's Story: The Teacher Who Doubted
Jennifer, 45, dismissed a student's disclosure
"I was teaching third grade when Emma started acting out. She'd been a happy, engaged student, but suddenly she was withdrawn, aggressive with other kids, falling asleep in class.
I pulled her aside one day to ask what was going on. She said, very quietly, 'My mom's boyfriend touches me when mom's at work.'
I froze. I asked what she meant. She said he came into her room at night and touched her private parts. She said it hurt and she was scared but she couldn't tell her mom because her mom said this boyfriend was 'the best thing that ever happened to us.'
I should have immediately reported to the principal and called CPS. That's the law. That's my job.
But I panicked. I thought about false accusations I'd heard about. I wondered if she'd misunderstood something innocent. I told myself eight-year-olds sometimes have vivid imaginations or misinterpret things.
So I told her we'd talk more later. And then I convinced myself to wait, to see if she brought it up again, to gather more information before I made such a serious accusation.
She never brought it up again. I think she felt shut down by my hesitation.
Three months later, Emma stopped coming to school. I learned later that CPS had removed her and her siblings from the home after her baby brother was hospitalized with injuries. The investigation revealed the boyfriend had been sexually abusing Emma and physically abusing the younger children.
Emma had told me. She'd trusted me with the worst thing happening to her. And I'd hesitated, doubted, waited—while the abuse continued and escalated to her siblings.
I reported the conversation to authorities when Emma was removed, but by then it was too late. The damage was done. To her, to her brothers, to her trust in adults who are supposed to protect children.
I left teaching two years later. I couldn't look at students the same way, couldn't forgive myself for failing the one time it really mattered.
What I've learned: When a child discloses abuse, believe them immediately and report immediately. Don't second-guess. Don't wait. The few times kids make false reports don't outweigh the devastating cost of failing to act on real reports. I chose to doubt a child over protecting her, and I'll never forgive myself for that."
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