Journal Entry 2/7/2014

I work part-time in a building that is home to many non-profit agencies. I usually get in by 7:30AM. During this “polar vortex” winter I have been so grateful to open the doors to this 5-story building and enter the warm and spacious foyer. Always, as I unbutton the first button on my coat I begin to think that were I homeless I would try and find as many buildings as possible that opened early and didn’t have guards or keys to prevent unwanted visitors. I think how knowing that would allow me to sneak away from the cold for a few minutes…perhaps for enough time to get warm and maybe even go to the bathroom and wash up a little, including combing my hair and brushing my teeth. I think how, in my building, there is a corner hidden from immediate view, where I could curl up for a moment or two and rest, pretty sure that I would not be seen for awhile because of the early morning hour and the pressures of work/family/life we all seem to walk with.

I wonder who would be the first “legitimate” person to see me? Would it be one of the maintenance people going out to salt the sidewalk…or someone who had to come into work but then go right back out again to attend a meeting or conference. Maybe it would be someone in the women’s room while I was brushing my hair or teeth. Who would it be that would find it necessary to report me…how would they speak to me…harshly or with respect…would I be threatened with removal and told to never come back again…who would assume that it was I who left the “messy splash” on the counter top in the bathroom or failed to flush the toilet after use, even though those things had happened countless times before by the “legitimate” people who worked here.

As the scenarios race through my mind, I feel sad and frustrated that anyone should have to be cold and then, from within me I feel rage start swirling around within me…working towards eruption as it occurs to me that the reason this building is warm is because they probably keep the heat on overnight so that the pipes won’t freeze! “WHAT” I scream…so the fucking pipes won’t freeze! How many damn buildings keep their heat on 24/7 so that their damn pipes won’t freeze? A big empty building is toasty warm because keeping pipes from freezing is far more important than keeping people from freezing. This is shameful... I mean dammit…until we systemically end homelessness let’s demand that every foyer of every building be open to all people. Just maybe we could not only save the pipes from freezing but maybe…just maybe…we might actually start to save a few people from freezing...freezing to death. 

October 28, 2012

It has been a while since I posted. I have moved to a wonderful space that has allowed me to see many shooting stars, boats and a little drawbridge over the Neponset River.  Yesterday, while taking a break from work, I observed the following:

The mother and her adult son were walking, side by side, on East Berkley Street in Boston.  Laughing, they sent out a wonderful energy that made them feel closer in physical space than they actually were as he explained the architecture of familiar Boston structures and landmarks.  He was animated...his hands pointing in different directions to all the different structures.  She was excited and focused on his every word.    As they began to walk over the Mass Pike I noticed a man lagging behind them.  He seemed awkward, quiet and distant.  He carried a camera and on occasion would snap a picture of one of the buildings.  His face had no expression, and his energy felt troubling so I was surprised when the mother and son stopped, turned and looked back, encouraging the man who was lagging behind to catch up with them.  As the three came together I felt the wonderful energy between the mother and son change…become less. Watching them speak with each other I realized they were together…they were family...and that "lagging behind man" was the adult man’s father. After a quick moment of conversation, mother and son started walking again..."lagging behind man" (the father) checked out his camera. By the time he started walking again he was, once again, lagging behind.   I so wanted to shout out to the father “STOP lagging behind...STOP snapping pictures … be with your son in this moment on this day and that will be a picture that will line your heart forever”.

Di

PARKING & REGISTERING INFO FOR 10TH ANNIVERSARY CONFERENCE/CELEBRATION

Problems Registering?

Some people have reported difficulty in registering. If you do not receive notification within four hours that you are registered, please notify us by calling either emailing Kathy at kathleenmdwyer@aol.com or by calling Eva Montibello at  617-742-8555

Parking:
The Holiday Inn will validate parking garage tickets for conference attendees that park at the Charles River Plaza Parking Garage, which is close to the Holiday Inn and located at 175 Cambridge St. Please be sure to bring your parking ticket to the registration table at the start of each day so that a committee member can have it validated by the hotel. We will have a system in place during the conference to get your ticket back to you. This is a wonderful deal as the cost of parking, with validation, will only be $5 per day.

PLEASE NOTE:  We are asking any clerics (male or female) who may be planning on attending the conference to, out of respect for survivors, wear street clothes only.

2012 Year of the Survivor:

Celebrating the 10th Anniversary of Confronting the
 Catholic child sexual abuse scandal

Conference Dates:

January 6, 7, 8, 2012 (Friday - Sunday)

Location:

Holiday Inn, Beacon Hill

Cost:

Early Registration $20 (now through Dec 15, 2011)

Registration $25 (12/16/2011-01/02/2012)

Late Registration $30 (after 01/03/2012 and walk-ins)

To Register (or make a donation):
http://speakingoutsafely.ticketleap.com/t/RC/

River Blessing
Kathleen M. Dwyer....September 8, 2010

Mother earth cradles the river

as it runs along beside me…

clean and sparkling rocks

help create

her ever changing symphony

Green, brown and yellow earth

hold my steps

as the river splashes blessings on me…

I am ready to follow her forward

 into the unknown!

My Name is Peter April 2010

I was sitting in my car at the T waiting for my daughter Karin.  A young white man, perhaps in his late twenties, was walking back and forth slowly…he saw that I was smoking.  As our eyes met he asked if I had a cigarette I could spare.  “Of course.” I said and gave him a couple.  He thanked me and we began talking about the weather and how his cell phone had died and how he was now waiting for his girlfriend to come and pick him up.

I explained I was waiting for my daughter and that he could use my cell if he wanted but he said I don’t know any numbers…”they are all programmed into my cell phone”.  We both laughed and I said isn’t it terrible…I used to know all my friends phone numbers and now…he smiled knowingly.

He had such a gentle spirit and as we talked it was amazing how we went from the weather to more personal information. He mentioned how his dad had been in the merchant marines and I said how both interesting and hard that must have been for him…interesting because of the places his father would have traveled…hard because it must have meant he was away a lot.  He seemed surprised that I knew both ends of it…and then, with an ever so slight shrug, mentioned that his childhood home was quite dysfunctional.  I smiled and said yes…mine too.  But then I told him that it does give us an opportunity…we can stay stuck in the cycle of dysfunction or…we can try and make things different for ourselves as adults and certainly, for our kids. I told him that I was proud because I experienced my children and I as having created a really positive family unit.  Certainly, there were difficulties…but still, I went onto say, that at 40 and 35, my son, daughter and I remain very close and supportive of one another. They like him and me have issues…but we keep working on what was to better be present for what is… to help create positive changes for what’s to come. 

He smiled and went onto share that sometimes he feels as if he is 10 years older than he actually is and yet, it is only now that he is beginning to understand that his actions do affect others. “Wow” I said…some people never get that…good for you!  He did feel like a very old soul to me…with a core of gentleness, kindness mixed in with wisdom. I told him that and that he reminded me of my children and that it is not always easy to walk this earth in such a way.

At this point his girlfriend came and they cuddled into each other in a very sweet and affectionate way.  I told her that he was very special and she giggled and agreed.  I also felt her energy to be very kind, gentle and fun and told her that as well.  We said good-bye and as they walked away I looked up to see my daughter walking towards me. The young man and his girlfriend were about twenty feet away when he turned around and walked back towards my car with his hand open and extended.  When he reached my window he took my hand, which had drifted out of my car to receive his, and said, “My name is Peter…thank you”.  As we physically connected, it felt so good inside of me…the moments we shared were so meaningful to me and his gesture seemed to say that they were to him as well. I wished him all the best that there is and he said he wished me the same and quickly added the same wishes for my son and daughter.

As Karin got into the car she asked who he was.  I told her about my precious and unexpected moments of conversation…she looked at me and we both smiled, and then, feeling a little more whole, I fastened my seat belt and we headed home. 

Thoughts from a survivor of clergy ritual, sexual and spiritual abuse

LENT 2010

Even after decades of traveling back to my past… of naming out loud my reality…of feeling the pain, betrayal and countless other feelings…I still can get hit with the legacy that is familiar to most of us who have been sexually abused by people we should have been able to trust.  The more work I have done the more healing I have received and yet…the legacy of being sexually abused, at times immobilizing, never really leaves but rather seems to lay dormant, waiting for some trigger to appear.  Like the original perpetrators, the “legacy” often attacks my body, mind and spirit unexpectedly, leaving me feeling embarrassed, ashamed and alone.

Such was the 2010 season of Lent.  At a time when I had finally felt and dared to hope it would be less difficult it was in fact more difficult than usual.   The despair and grief I experienced, along with a scattering of physically painful body memories, seem to have lifted now, leaving me with more clarity about the contributing factors over the last two months.  Of course, there were the usual factors such as the interconnectedness of family and church, timing of the abuse and the media coverage of Lent.  But this year there was also the media coverage proving, again through the churches own documents, that the sexual abuse and cover-up in the catholic church is international and organized and that those who covered-up these crimes and moved known abusers from parish to parish include both this pope and the previous one as well. 

Of course, I was not surprised.  I actually believe that this behavior goes back centuries not decades.  In that sense, it was validating but I learned a long time ago that validation can often be like a double edged sword.     On one hand you finally have proof of what you have believed and proclaimed to be true but with that truth comes the loss of any hope that just maybe…you were wrong…just maybe there were not as many children sexually abused as you feared…that there were not countless children who struggled and are struggling to reach adulthood with some sense of self-esteem… peace… calm… love. 

So yes…while it was hopeful that more truth is being revealed it was also hard and triggering hearing so much affirmed… especially the knowing that countless others have experienced the horror so many of us know and that the deceit and betrayal is so deeply institutionalized that change, if even possible, will be a long, long wait, which ultimately means our children and the children yet to come remain at risk every bit as much as was I.

I am grateful that this Lent is behind me and that the unexpected triggers and heavy weight we felt has left. The paths survivors take are as varied and unique as are we survivors… some never acknowledge they were sexually abused…others work on healing until the day they die.  In between these two things are all the other ways that survivors walk this earth.  Whatever the path of your walk may be… may it bless you with the energy, support and challenge that will help you to keep walking towards creating a safer world for all children.