Speaking Truth to Power

It’s now February of 2010 — two and a half years since I stepped away from this blog. Various pieces of news…

First, has anything changed in the way UUs address sexual misconduct by clergy? I still follow what’s happening, and sad to say that, to my knowledge, nothing of any significance has changed in the intervening years.  Would that it were otherwise, but I still strongly recommend that victims of sexual misconduct not file a complaint with the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA).

That’s not to say there is no hope.

There’s a new president of the UUA who, during his campaign, promised to take action in a letter to the First Unitarian Universalist Church of Nashville.  There’s been a bit of talk, but no action yet.

Also, there’s Safety Net, a Social Justice subcommittee of this amazing congregation.  Among other things, Safety Net has kindly agreed to my moving this blog to their website.  There’s not much else on their website yet.  But that’s likely to change in the near future.  Among other things, I hope they will start collecting news about what’s happening.

There seem to be very few UU congregations that have what it takes to deal with clergy sexual misconduct, but First Unitarian Universalist Church of Nashville has proved to be a pillar of strength.  It not only supports victims and survivors in its midst, but also, when called upon, other congregations and victim/survivors all around the country.  My gratitude to their leadership is beyond words.

One final note.  Will this blog pick up where it left off? I’m also grateful to those of you who convinced me not to pull the blog down in Aug. 2007.   However, for personal reasons I still have no desire to continue with it.  Instead, I leave it to Safety Net to decide its fate and what to do or not do next.  I trust them.

What a wonderful thing for a survivor of clergy misconduct to be able to say.  I trust.  I relinquish this deep ache in my soul to them.  May it be so for others of you grievously wronged in the name of your faith.

Friends,

A couple of things have come up.

First, I emailed the Faith Trust Institute to bring them up-to-date. To my surprise and sorrow, I learned that, due to budget challenges, they no longer have the capacity to do individual advocacy for victims. Because of this, I must retract my recommendation that victims of UU clergy misconduct contact them.

The question now becomes what to advise victims instead? Ultimately, I’ve learned that this question really is what’s the least bad choice. There are no good choices.

Of course, the experience of being a victim varies. With the Faith Trust Institute no longer being an option, I’m more concerned about over-generalizing. Still, given the current realities, I doubt filing a formal complaint with the UUA is going to be the best choice for anyone. A few years ago, it was different, and it could change again, but it seems most unlikely that that will happen any time soon. If it does, I expect you will know. It will probably be accompanied by another apology on the order of the one issued at General Assembly 2000.

Assuming a formal complaint is not a viable option, then what can a victim do? I would suggest a series of things. First off, and I hate to say this, but be very cautious about whom you trust, particularly within your congregational and faith communities. Second, find the rape crisis center or domestic violence shelter nearest you. While hopefully it isn’t rape or domestic violence you have experienced, nonetheless they are likely to know the best resources to help you. For example, they can probably advise you on attorneys to contact.

Speaking of lawyers, this is a topic I’ve tiptoed around, because of not wanting to be adversarial. However, it’s a virtual certainty that you will need protection, particularly if you are going to do the responsible thing and let the association know that a particular minister has abused their position.

While it should not be that you are attacked and undermined, that’s really the whole point of this blog. The fact is that’s been the experience of every other victim of UU clergy misconduct whom I’ve known. The particulars have varied over the years, but that much is consistent. And for most of us, this subsequent reality has been much worse than the original abuse.

The other big impediment to hiring an attorney is the cost. But think of it as an investment in your happiness and quality of life. It’s as if your house burned down. Yes, insurance should pay everything, but no it won’t. And just because you are hiring an attorney doesn’t mean you are committing to suing anyone. You’re just doing a responsible job of exploring your least bad choices.

The second thing is that several of you have asked me not to take this blog down. It came as a big surprise to me. You really touched me, and I’m very grateful. If I’m hearing you correctly, you are saying to just shut the comments off and stop updating it, but leave it up.

While not wanting to be adversarial is my primary motivation, there are also some personal things that lead me towards taking it down. Some of this is private, but one of those things may be good to talk about a little more.

That’s how this work has again become a shackle for my heart (for lack of a better word). It certainly wasn’t when I began the blog. I wouldn’t have started it if I’d known this would happen.

These days I frequently recall one of the teachers (and a fellow survivor) at the Marie Fortune retreat I attended. She said with great passion, “Don’t let them steal your spiritual practice from you.” By “them” she meant not just the perpetrators, but also the system.

Dear readers, I feel a call to let go and watch the wild geese head home. I want to touch the starlight, laugh with friends, and do what I am good at. I will leave comments on for a few more days, then shut them off, and heed the call of my heart.

Dear Friends,

The time has come to take this blog down, and so I will be doing that in the next few days.

When I began it, I had thought that the problems at the UUA were less serious than in fact they are. I had hopes that things were turning a corner – that there was about to be dialog and progress on addressing clergy misconduct.

Unfortunately, almost every month I get more bad news. It puts me in a position where I can only be adversarial, and that was never my intent. I’m glad to help if those who have power want to listen, but I don’t want to fight.

If there’s one thing I hope you take away from this blog, it’s an understanding of how dangerous the current process is for those who have already been hurt by a UU minister. Please spread the word as you are able.

I wish it weren’t so, but for the foreseeable future, I would strongly recommend that victims of sexual misconduct not file a complaint with the UUA. Instead, I would suggest contacting the Rev. Marie Fortune’s Faith Trust Institute. [8/18 update: the Institute can no longer assist individuals. Please see the Postscript for more information.]

Finally, I wanted to say thank you to the many people who have been supportive of this blog, this very difficult work and me. I am grateful beyond words.

My life is a happy one. I’m very lucky and I know it. I pray that some day things will improve for other victims of UU clergy misconduct. And may all of you find wonderful, healthy congregations and ministers, and may your religious lives flourish.

The Chief Happiness Officer has a wonderful article on the power of apology: A tale of two airlines – Or why every company needs a Chief Apology Officer

Wouldn’t a Chief Apology Officer be a great position at the UUA? Not a fun job, of course, but what a ministry. I suspect they’d easily recoup their salary in grateful donations from those who feel heard, rather than disenfranchised. And if Southwest Airlines can do it, surely we can too?

“I must answer, Yes, to truth.” Those were words in our closing hymn this morning, echoed moments before in the sermon. I had to bolt for the door, as the waves of sadness hit me.

Don’t get me wrong. It was a wonderful service and sermon. Just very hard. It’s all context isn’t it?

I used to take this idea so earnestly – basically still do. But does the UUA? Or the MFC? When faced with a report of sexual abuse by one their ministers? The sad truth is, of course, that, No, they don’t.

Should UUA leaders read these words, I expect they will be offended. And I’m sorry for that. That’s certainly not my intent. But that’s the thing with saying yes to truth, isn’t it? The truth isn’t always what we want to hear. I’m sadder than words can ever say that some in our ministry abuse their power so heinously. But I’m even sadder that those who have the courage to speak this truth are treated as badly as they are.

One other thing from today’s service… Did you know the reason adults finally started seeing Snuffleupagus on Sesame Street happened in the wake of a string of high profile stories about pedophilia? I had no idea. The writers were concerned that by having adults refuse to believe Big Bird, despite the fact that he was telling the truth, they were scaring children into thinking that their parents wouldn’t believe them if they had been sexually abused and that they’d be better off remaining silent.

Go Sesame Street! How I wish victims of UU clergy misconduct could speak. But we’re better off remaining silent. One happy thought: I guess this makes me Big Bird. And how I love Big Bird. But won’t you take me back to Sesame Street?

I read the news yesterday about the Archdiocese of Los Angeles settling with victims. Yesterday I thought, “I should be happy for them.” Even the headline noted what to me would be the most important — more important than $660 million. An apology. So I should rejoice for them.

But this morning I turned on the TV and there was a woman just a little younger than me trying to talk to the press and crying. She was so clearly reliving bits and pieces of the horror. She was quite upset, and I was with her. I expect in some measure she is happy and relieved, but the cost is so unimaginably huge. If it were me, when facing the press I would be reliving the horror of not having been heard in the past. Why does it take lawyers and the press to be believed and listened to? What does this say about our religions? What does this say about us?

I bet that’s it. That’s usually it when I talk to others who have gone through this. UU, Catholic, Episcopalian, Buddhist, male, female, straight, gay, young, old. It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same. It’s not being heard by leadership that is the worst — much worse than the original horror. And then, the next day, I would feel so very trapped in that reality. That’s what breaking the silence does. It traps you there, paralyzing the other parts of your life. I pray for her sake and all the others courageous enough to speak their truth that now they may truly and completely lay this burden down. I pray that the burden will now and forevermore be shouldered by those with power.

And I pray that our faith knows and understands that there, but for the grace of God or sheer dumb luck, go we. Our procedures are in shambles and our leadership does not listen to victims. Just read the policies. It’s quite clear whom they listen to. It probably isn’t malicious, but it doesn’t matter. In a way, that makes it even more devastating. You can bet if the press ever talked to me (please God no), that I would cry my way through talking about UUs hating me for simply speaking the truth — about how it damaged my life, my family’s life, my children’s lives and my congregation’s life.

Bear in mind I’m part of a success story. I won, my family and congregation are thriving, and still, I sit here aching to my core. It’s because of how more recent victims of UU misconduct have been treated. Our leadership is no longer listening.

So I also pray for UU humility. I pray that our leadership has the grace not to feel, much less act, superior to the Catholic leadership. In my most hopeful moments, I hope they connect the dots and realize that Cardinal Mahoney is their face. And the woman crying? She’s the face of all congregations damaged by misconduct.

Clergy sexual misconduct is a travesty. There’s no question about that. It’s also found in all faiths, including ours. So why is it so poorly addressed by Unitarian Universalists? Why is it allowed to devastate congregations like mine? Why do the problems, now known, not get fixed? In a word, it’s the “bystander.” There’s a very good chance I mean people like you. To quote Judith Lewis Herman:

“It is very tempting to take the side of the perpetrator. All the perpetrator asks is that the bystander do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander to share the burden of the pain. The victim demands action, engagement, and remembering. . . .”

This bystander non-engagement trickles up, ultimately, in the case of Unitarian Universalism, to our Board. Addressing clergy misconduct is not a priority for the Board. There are some good people on the board who get it, and would be happy to spearhead fixing the system, but they don’t have the support of the rest of the Board.

If the system is going to be fixed, the Board needs to get the right people to the table and rewrite the policies. Then the Board needs to hold those charged with the responsibility accountable. Otherwise we’re trapped in an endless loop of: (1) task forces write excellent reports with great ideas of how to fix the problems; (2) we start down the right track; (3) the initiative gets lost to other priorities determined by people not on the Board who don’t necessarily understand misconduct; (4) victims and congregations are hit by more clergy misconduct and suffer terribly; (5) they try to speak up, but are marginalized; (6) if they are heard at all, a task force is formed and the cycle goes on. The time for powerless task forces is past. The time for making the victims hold the brunt of the responsibility should never have been.

So here is what you can do….

Contact your Board member and anyone else you know on the Board. It’s really quite easy. Just tell them this has to be a priority and ask them to check back with you in six months and let you know what’s been done. Ask for concrete acts. Ask who they have put in charge and what their credentials are. Ask if they have gotten some victims to the table.

It doesn’t matter whether or not you’ve never been affected by clergy misconduct. If you haven’t already been, you could be, or worse, a beloved child of yours could be. It’s not the silence of victims that sanctions perpetrators. It’s everyone else’s silence. So just do it. Tell the Board they need to make addressing misconduct a priority.

When the day comes that the Board claims overcoming misconduct as a priority, they won’t just be doing the right thing, they’ll be creating a healthier association. I’d be willing to bet our faith will start to grow if they (finally) do a good job of this. It’s good business to do the right thing.

Have you heard of Brazen Careerist: The New Rules for Success? I hadn’t until today. But I just ran across a book review and it mentioned some of Penelope Trunk’s advice: “They say report sexual harassment. I say don’t.”

Reading this was one of those moments for me – a domino effect happening in my head. It boils down to….

If you are a victim of UU clergy misconduct, don’t report it.

Of course, there’s more nuance than that, and a ton of information behind it. It’s not as if I’m saying this out of the blue. Hopefully, you’ve gotten a sense of that from reading this blog. If you have, you know I wouldn’t have said this six months ago. I’ve evolved to this point after interacting with both recent victims of UU misconduct and some of the people who have the power to change the way it’s handled. If you’ve read this blog, you also know I’m not casting blame.

I’m simply saying, don’t do it. “They say report. I say don’t.” I gather her premise is it’s not smart. That’s certainly my premise. There is a trail of tears, which, like the original trail, seems to matter to very few. But it matters to me, and it should matter to you if you are a victim. Chances are you’ve gone through hell. Don’t make it worse.

Think…. Whose problem is a misconducting UU minister really? The MFC’s? You bet. The UUMA’s? Absolutely. The UUA’s. Of course. The minister’s church? No question. The victim’s? Absolutely not.

To be clear, by “don’t report it,” I mostly mean don’t file a formal complaint. I don’t mean you shouldn’t tell anyone. It’s even okay in my opinion to tell the UUA, as long as you make it clear they do not have your permission to share your name or to consider you a complainant. Just do what feels safest. And be very careful. One good option is contacting Marie Fortune’s Institute. [8/18 update: the Institute can no longer assist individuals. Please see the Postscript for more information.]

If you’re like other victim/survivors I know, you’re worried the minister is going to hurt others the same way s/he hurt you. That was the biggest hook for me. And it’s a very real issue. People will tell you that if you don’t say something, then the powers-that-be can’t do anything. There’s merit to this argument. What it overlooks is that if you do say something, the powers-that-be still won’t do anything to take care of the real problem. Not now. In the past they tried to do the right thing, and came closer to succeeding. Instead as things currently stand, they will put you through an ill-defined and anything-but-transparent process and the case will appear to you to go into a black hole. To the best of my knowledge, it’s a universally horrific ordeal. You will be treated as if you are the problem, and your life (which is probably already quite difficult) will be made much more difficult by the UUA. In the end, you won’t even know if or when it’s resolved.

There are also the twin seductresses of ministry and justice. It’s quite normal to assume that, since this is a religious association and grievous damage has been done to you in its name, the response to you will be ministerial in some measure. Chances are that some of the individuals actually will treat you in a ministerial fashion. But it’s not part of the process and in the end doesn’t begin to balance out the harm done. In fact, it can be confusing. If X is ministerial toward you, but still lets Y happen, what does that mean about you, ministry, etc., etc. It’s a rocky course for a person whose trust in ministry has already been broken.

As for justice, clergy misconduct is not generally understood as a justice issue by the UUA. Its process therefore has nothing to do with it. At best, you will end up feeling cynical about UUA leaders. They talk wonderful justice talk, but in this area where you know what they could do, they fail to walk their talk.

What you are responsible for is your own life. I know it can be very hard – not unlike ending a marriage. I’ve had to walk away from church and faith at times, sometimes believing and accepting that it was forever. I’d invested much of my life into my church and the UUA, and it was anything but easy. But it was the smart thing to do.

One day, perhaps soon, there may come a time when it’s all right to report clergy misconduct. But the UUA has a long way to go. They’ve lost a lot of ground in recent years. Just remember, though… that’s not my problem and it’s not yours either. Take good care of yourself. Read smart books, find another church, love those who love you, blog, play, write bad poetry, sing bawdy songs, climb Mt. Everest, whatever. Sometimes a life well lived is simply the best.

The last few weeks I’ve noticed that some of the main triggers for me – things that send me back to the terrible memories associated with filing a complaint of misconduct – are, of all things, hymns. It’s not the melody; it’s the words and who wrote them. I yearn to be part of not just a whole and healthy church, but a whole and healthy faith – and I’ve been around long enough that I know (either directly or indirectly) quite a number of the authors in both of our hymn books.

Today it was a beautiful piece by Shelley Jackson Dunham. And today it was a good memory, though as is usually the case, good means bittersweet.

I strongly associate Shelley with The Mountain. When I think of The Mountain, I remember two things. The first is my initial visit there. It was maybe five years after the year from hell. My family basically dragged me there. I didn’t want to go, but I love my family and I went. I figured it would be beautiful, and it was. But what I hadn’t in my wildest dreams imagined was that I would feel accepted – by Unitarian Universalists. That was a time at my church when I wasn’t as totally marginalized as I had been, but I wasn’t all that accepted either. I was in some grey area, and grey is how it felt.

One of the reasons I hadn’t wanted to go was figuring that the Mountain staff would know about what had happened, know about me, and accidentally-on-purpose shun me. That was the way things worked back then. Or maybe they wouldn’t know about my role, but I wouldn’t matter to them. As much as I thought about – which wasn’t a lot.

To my amazement, they were to a person kind, attentive and appropriate with everyone in my family, including me. Just to be that way with my family speaks volumes. We’re probably a typical UU family – too smart for our own good, highly opinionated, the younger ones edgy, the older ones sometimes cantankerous, scattered around the country, and many of us no longer UU. Larry Wheeler, in particular, took us all in with great good humor and grace.

The second memory that came to me in that instant of singing Shelley’s hymn was when I returned to The Mountain several years later for Leadership School. If you’re going to get anything out of Leadership School, you have to be who you are. I still didn’t know if The Mountain staff knew I was an infamous complainant, and as luck would have it, one of them, Robert E., was my small group leader.

I’m not a swearing sort, but as we were sent on our way to small group, I thought, “Oh s#*$&, I’m going to have to talk about the misconduct – with Robert E. The jig is up. Now the staff will know.” I couldn’t have been more wrong. For one thing, as I found out the last hour of that week-long amazing experience, Helen Bishop, the head of the school, knew about my history and had alerted the whole staff before any of us students ever arrived.

And everyone, Robert E., Helen and an amazing cast of others, were accepting of me. If you know Helen, you know accepting doesn’t mean molly-coddling. There were moments that week when I thought I’d never stop crying – and, really, I don’t cry that much about this stuff. But not that week. Especially towards the end. But everyone was fine with that. Some knew. Those who had to know did, and that was good. Some didn’t, and that was good too.

I’m particularly grateful not everyone knew, because that meant acceptance for who I really am. While I was a victim of misconduct, I struggle to minimize that reality as part of my identity. But I guess it will always be pretty close to the surface, if even hymns evoke it.

I think I found two more tools today in my quest for letting go of anger over the injustices of clergy misconduct. The first came over lunch today, with one of the officers of our church. We’re lucky to have this woman on the Board. She’s knowledgeable, kind, hard-working and very experienced with the UUA. She wasn’t around during our worst years, yet she doesn’t say the thing many do: “I wasn’t there, so I can’t understand.” Instead, when it’s needed she jumps right in and tries to understand – and I think she does.

As our conversation unfolded, we both agreed strongly that it’s likely that one of the core problems with the UUA leadership right now is not understanding that a few of their colleagues have serious personality disorders. We sympathize with them for not getting this. Neither of us has a background in psychology. I’ve had to learn the hard way how different an abusive personality is. I didn’t understand what was going on nearly as quickly as the mental health professionals did. I was used to a model of people not being perfect, but basically decent. I was projecting myself on them. And that’s what we think many UU leaders are doing with clergy who have abused congregants. They think it was just a misstep – that the accused minister is basically decent. They project themselves on to their colleagues. Most of the time this would probably be just fine. But not with clergy who have sexually abused others and never repented it.

This is a thought I’ve had a lot in recent months, and generally as happened today, others agree. The difference is that today I realized I could recall this piece as a way to calm down and let go. It doesn’t matter that I’m not certain that’s what’s going on. It’s a reasonable hypothesis, gives me sympathy for them, and helps me let go.

The second came on the heels of this validation. Again I’ve known for a while that the anger is in fact a mask covering fear – that it’s a biologic response having to do with self-preservation. What I was missing is that the fear is well founded. My fear is that UUA leadership will harshly mistreat me again. This is, in fact, extremely likely.

I had a fifth grade teacher who called the adrenalin of fear “fight or flight juice.” As I keep saying – I want to walk away. That’s the flight. But things keep tugging me back – even as directly as people asking me to talk to UUA leaders – when I don’t want to fight. I don’t want the anger.

So here’s the second tool. I don’t have to engage any more with UUA leaders. If they come and ask respectfully, then talking with them probably would be worth the cost of the pain of remembering all of the degradation, isolation, and so forth. But that’s unlikely to happen and that’s okay. There’s the key; I’m okay with that. It’s not revenge. It’s not acceptance. It’s just letting go.