I’m digesting some news that has been a little bit shocking for me.
It turns out that the woman I just worked with on a local fundraiser for mental health (I’ll call her S) was the woman who basically got the teacher who abused me (I’ll call him P) fired, at my old private school here. That’s not the news; it’s just where I can figure out to start …
The teacher had been treating her son with cruelty, by the sounds of it, kicking him in the shins and singling him out in front of the class. At one point, P apparently had her son stand up, and everyone else share why he didn’t fit in. S had written a ton of letters, which no one was really taking seriously; but her then husband came home one day and reassured her that she likely would not have to worry. He said that there was something much bigger pending against P as a teacher: A letter that had been written by a former student, accusing P of sexual abuse.
What is shocking is that this letter was written anonymously in 2008; while my letter was signed, complete with address, in 2005. There were two letters written.
The Board of the school had pitted against P, with my preschool teacher, R, standing vehimently by his side. The first time I saw R once I was back in the Valley a couple of years ago, I told her in a local theatre that there must be hundreds of children here who will love her forever.
Then I saw her at a school event, and she put her arm around me in front of a new teacher, whom I had also known in my previous city of residence, explaining that I had been part of the very first graduating class at the school.
I unknowingly facilitated and perpetuated her dysfunction, the lie, the keeping of the secret that has eaten my insides for the last 22 years.
I have felt nauseous for 3 days and vomited last night. This is the first time my body is responding, even before i am aware of all the emotions.