domestic abuse

Helping By Listening

This is Molly.

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Molly is not one person I actually know, Molly is many people I know of, and may know without realising that I know these things about her. Abuse, particularly of a sexual kind, is a hidden and shameful thing, even these days, when we are apparently all open about sex.

But things done to children often go unseen by those outside of the family, hushed up, denied ‘if necessary’, and to feel embarrassed and ashamed about if they happen to you. Sexual abuse, not only of children, but of women and men too, is a thing to be stamped on and stopped.

In an ideal world, this would happen, but this is far from an ideal world, and so women like Molly live all around the world, hiding from society, whilst remaining right there in the world with us, hoping no-one will notice them, and hurt them again.

These damaged souls deserve our sympathy, but they are unlikely to ask for it. Many of them don’t understand that other people truly do care, and want to help them. If a person gets knocked down often enough if and when they manage to stand up, then eventually they may simply stop trying to stand up to get what they should be given.

If you ever come across a person like Molly, someone on the edges, not seeming to want to join in, an angry person perhaps, bitter about what they have been kept from, or angry about the bad stuff they’ve been given, then why not see if they are willing to talk to you. Sometimes the opportunity to talk can open up the floodgates, and if you prove yourself to be a good and non-judgemental listener, there’s no telling how much you may learn, or how much you might help, simply by hearing this person’s story.

Listening actively is a skill, one well worth following up on, if you have any ideas of taking on  any kind of informal counselling roles, like the one I have been writing about here. Active listening involves pay these aspects: pay attention, show you’re listening, provide feedback, defer judgement and respond appropriately.

Listening without jumping in immediately with your own opinion is a great skill, a rare skill to have, because so many people only have a conversation to have their own story being heard. People like Molly though, they need to be properly listened to, if they feel safe enough to talk. If you talk over the top of them, they will close down, and you won’t have helped them.

People like Molly don’t deserve such treatment, if they try to reach out, they deserve a sympathetic listener who will let them say all they feel they need to say.

 

poetry

A New Poetry Form – The Streetbeatina

A new poetic discovery!
I found a new form of poetry the other day, and this is something that always makes me happy! I like words, and doing interesting things with them in poetic ways. So I read about it, and I jumped at the chance to give it a go myself. below is the explanation of the form, followed by my own attempts I’ve written so far. I suspect I will write more of this type of poem.

I feel my second attempt is a superior poem over my first try, but don’t feel either of them are as good as the ones written by the poet who came up with this interesting poetry form.

This website post came to my attention recently, and I was intrigued about its possibilities. The Streetbeatina consists of eight lines, each line having eight syllables. What makes the form both rather challenging and unique is that the first syllable of the first line is repeated as the second syllable in the second line, the third syllable of the third line and so on. Although it is not necessary, if the poet wishes, the repeated syllable can be emphasized by printing it either in italics, bold, or a different color. The repetition of the sound of the syllable at precise intervals provides the poem with a natural beat , and musicality.

If you wish to know more about this, from the man who created it, go here, where I found about it.

My own poetic Streetbeatina poems

Leftovers or Gourmet?

by Carolyn Cordon

Stew for dinner, yesterday’s meal

Can you eat it again remade?

Flavours drew from meat now gone, but

A hungry crew, lines up for more –

Meat tasteless as shoe leather, though

Spiced and revived, made new – chef’s friends

Garlic, chili, flavours true, real,

choices expand, cooking talents grew!

Short and ? Who knows …

by Carolyn Cordon

Yay, it’s time, good things are coming,

hooray, it’s now! Goodbye bad times,

go! I say. We’ve suffered enough

done all we may, each muscle aches

our brains fried, frayed, splattered, scattered …

What’ll come next, I say, wary ….

More bad shit, then I’m not staying!

That’s not a life, beaten, betrayed …

It’s Your Turn Now

If you like writing poetry, and you like challenges, why not have a go at this poetic style, who knows what you may be able to write!

And please, write a comment and tell me what you think about this form of poetry!

domestic abuse

Falling Through the Cracks

This is Molly.

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Molly has no friends, and doesn’t want any, anyway. Molly doesn’t think anyone would ever want to be her friend, and she doesn’t care about that. At least, that’s what she tells herself, and she believes what she says.

If Molly had a friend, she thinks, she’s have to be nice to people, whether she wanted to or not, and smile. Molly watches people, the way they smile and hug, and she doesn’t want to do that.

But Molly has never had a hug from a friend who cared about her. Poor Molly … Molly can remember a loving hug, from someone, it was probably her nana, but her nana lives a long way away, and Molly isn’t even really sure where she lives, she’s forgotten. She knows her nana cares about her, but she also knows she has no hope of a happy life, because her nana told her that once, on the phone.

Molly isn’t even really sure what that ‘happy life’ would have been like, she just knows it’s different from her life, and it’s probably more like the lives of  the kids at school had.

Molly has tried to live a life, but has faced a instead, falling through all of the cracks there, every single possible crack. Molly isn’t anger at anything in particular, because there isn’t one thing to blame. She blames every single thing. Everything that cold go wrong has gone wrong. She has tripped over every possible stepping stone in life, missed every target.

Molly was never taught how to ‘get on’ in life. She has no real understanding of the concept of ‘life’ as such, but just that people can sometimes hurt here, and she never knows which ones will hurt her the most. So she keeps away from all people, as much as she possible can.

The task of socialisation of children is one that is taken on by parents & teachers. Well that’s the way it’s supposed to go, but sadly, for many children, there is no parent willing or able to take on that task, so the child suffers.

Without at least adequate socialisation, the child may fail to find out how to fit into society, and remain forever on the edges, never knowing what they’re doing wrong, or how to find out the proper ways to be, so society sees them as a problem, if they are even noticed by their society. They live on the edges, and hide themselves away if they can, always …

Molly is not stupid, but she is profoundly restricted in her abilities to find her way through the seeming maze that is the world she is trying to live in. Will Molly ever find clues and lessons that may lead her out of the maze that is her sad, sad life?

Molly was quiet in class, never said a word wrong, and barely ever said a word at all in class, or to the other students or teachers. She was the weird kid, that everyone ignored, and she seemed to like to be left alone anyway, so no-one worried, really.

Who can tell? We’ll just have to wait and see. If you ever come across anyone like Molly, maybe you may become the one person who cares enough, to help that person. Would you do that? Are you brave enough and do you care enough?

http://school-age-children.yoexpert.com/physical-and-emotional-growth/why-is-it-important-for-children-to-learn-socializ-1761.html

 

domestic abuse

When Molly Fought Back, the First Time

A new idea for Molly’s story – she leaves home very soon after her father slapped her hard, and grabbed her, trying to drag her off to his bedroom, she fights like a wild cat, and races off through the back door, jumps over the neighbours fence, and then just goes, as far away as she can.

She had her wallet in her pocket, with her bank card, and she knew there were other things of her in her school locker, so knows that’s where she has to go, to get all of her things before her father can go to the school and get everything.

Molly is twelve. Her father had been nasty to her, telling her she’s dumb, and will never amount to anything, that he doesn’t know why he should have to spend his ‘hard earned money’ on her fancy stuff she wanted all of the time. He’s just begun looking at her when she goes into the bathroom before school, to make sure she washes her hair properly, and doesn’t waste all of the shampoo and conditioner.

She doesn’t like him being in there, and thanks to the sex ed classes they’ve begun at school, she is starting to realise something is wrong in the things he does with her, and has been doing since she can remember. She’s beginning to feel that he’s been doing bad things to her, touching her in places she now knows he has no right to touch her.

Molly has enough documents that she can keep on going, out on the streets. She contacts her maternal grandmother at an early stage of her new life out on the street, who helps her as much as she can. She’s frightened of Molly’s dad too though, so she isn’t able to do a lot, in case he finds out, and beats her.

domestic abuse

Sins of the Father

The Bible is a tricky thing, with ideas

going first one way, and then another,

but Molly felt deep the sins of her father

visited upon her, a child, who dared, once

to smile in his presence, and then no more.

 

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This is Molly, who dared once, and learned

a smile is seen as a challenge, to the guilty one,

and a challenge not put down, may rise again.

Molly’s sin of smiling was small, compared

to the sins of her father, but he won, and she lost.

 

He won, over his daughter’s sense of her own self.

She lost trust, and faith in the idea of her worth.

Molly lost her mother, her father, and her virginity.

She lost, if she ever even had, parental love,

and lost her smile, slapped from her face. Forever?

 

Will Molly, can Molly, ever find her smile again?

Will anything in her life, ever again seem something

to be smiled at, even carefully? Or, as with chasteness,

is a lost smile something, never to get back again,

and so Molly remain forever damaged, broken?

 

 

Molly, oh Molly please seek help, there are resources out there to help you, and others like you. Domestic abuse, domestic violence, sexual abuse, child abuse, child sexual abuse, these are crimes, and the perpetrators should be charged and dealt with via the court system. No-one adult of child, should feel unsafe in their own home.