My Grandmother’s #MeToo Trauma

My grandmother in the 1940s or 1950s.

photographer unknown

This is a hard post for me to write. I struggled about whether or not I should even write this, but I think I should.

With all the talk the past year or so about sexual harassment, sexual assault and rape, I've been thinking a great deal. The discussions haven't brought up any trauma for me. Like every woman, I've been subjected to harassment. This is not to deny that those injustices should be ignored but merely to state that I am okay.

This post isn't about me.

This is about my grandmother.

She passed in 2011, and I miss her every day. About six or seven months before she passed, she entrusted me with a secret.

She had been molested and raped as a child and teen.

She didn't tell me the gory details, and I didn't ask. She didn't tell me names, though I have no doubt she remembered them. Suffice it to say, she knew her attackers.

Even she wasn't sure if everything that had been done to her "counted" as something wrong. She asked me that when talking about the man who took her into a room as a child and did things to her. "Now, isn't that wrong?"

I told her yes, it was. I said that with absolute conviction because it is true.

My grandmother in the mid-1980s

in San Antonio.

photo by my mother

I don't know how I kept from crying when she told me that. I'm crying typing this right now.

The point I want to make here is not to name the men who hurt my grandmother; I don't know their names. The point is not to damage the way people remember my grandmother; they have their own memories of her to recall.

The point is that that trauma lived with my grandmother for the rest of her life.

She lacked confidence in herself. She considered herself “stupid” (her word, not mine).

These things I knew long before I knew about her assaults. I always thought they were a result of bullying behavior by siblings or the fact that she had to quit school in sixth grade. And I'm sure that's part of it, too.

But it all boils down to the shame she lived with every day for most of her life.

My grandmother and grandfather at their

40th wedding anniversary.

photographer unknown

As far as I know, the only person she told was her husband.

People who have been assaulted sexually are forced to deal with that shame and trauma every day. Some are able to talk about their experiences almost immediately, and some are not. Some are lucky enough to see their attackers serve time in prison. Most are not.

The revelations and news about sexual offenders that has come out over the past years has been infuriating, heartbreaking and depressing. I do not know how my grandmother would have responded to all of these revelations. Would they have brought back painful memories? Would she have told me more details? Would she have reached out to someone for help?

I like to think she would appreciate me writing this post for her as a way to exorcise some of her demons. I hope that's true.

If you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted and needs help, please contact RAINN.

You can also donate to RAINN.

Jon Scieszka: An Appreciation

What can I say about Jon Scieszka that hasn't already been said?

I got to meet him once when I was helping with local arrangements for the Texas Library Association's annual conference. He was going to assist with the emcee duties for the Book Cart Drill Team Competition, and we were reviewing the way the event would go.

He was such fun!

There are people you meet and you instantly feel like you could be friends with this person forever. Jon Scieszka is like that. I don't remember if we were formally introduced or not. In my memory, he just showed up and joined this group of Texas librarians like he had been there for years.

I suppose, in a way, he had.

Librarians have rock star authors that we love for any number of reasons. One of the biggest reasons we love certain authors is that they love libraries and reading, too. Jon Scieszka is one of those authors. Like librarians, he knows there's a story out there for every reader--especially so-called "reluctant" boy readers. It's one of the reasons he started Guys Read.

Ultimately, though, his books are funny and customers love them. There doesn't need to be anything more than that. But the fact that there is? That's what makes Jon Scieszka a rock star.

Patricia Polacco: An Appreciation

Patricia Polacco is another author I was introduced to as an adult. The first book of hers I read was Thank You, Mr. Falker, which I read in graduate school. It is a beautiful story about a wonderful teacher who recognizes the troubles young Trisha is having in his fifth grade classroom and teaches her to read.

I cried when I read it. I cry when I read almost any Polacco book. The one that makes me cry the most is Pink and Say.

If you haven't read Pink and Say, do yourself a favor. Find a copy of the book, and then find a private space. Bring Kleenex! It takes place during the Civil War, but it's about so much more than that. It's a heartbreaking friendship story, it's another tale about learning to read, and it's a powerful testament to stories and the impacts they have on people's lives.

Many of Polacco's stories are like that. They are stories from her life or ones that have been passed down through her family. Every time I read one I am struck by her life and family and all the stories they have lived. Her books make me think about my own family stories.

How would I write a book about some of the tales I've heard from my family? How would you?

Cynthia Rylant: An Appreciation

I was first introduced to Cynthia Rylant by a dear friend of mine. She was an elementary teacher and lent me a number of her personal children's books to read, basically re-introducing me to a world of literature that I had missed during my teen and college years.

She placed Missing May in my hands and told me to read it. It was a paperback with that familiar gold Newbery medal on the cover, and it was thin. I probably read it during one lunch break at my summer job.

What a stunning little book! In so few pages, Rylant describes a girl who has lost many people in her life but doesn't let that stop her from forming a new family and learning to live with those losses. It is the perfect book for a child to read who has lost a loved one. It reassures children that it is okay to miss someone but also encourages them not to wallow in that grief. It's one of the most realistic depictions of a child recovering from a loved one's death that I've ever read.

I've since read many other books by Rylant, and each one is a gem. I'm especially fond of her poetry book God Went to Beauty School. It's full of poems about God celebrating what we would consider mundane pleasures in life and finding the absolute beauty, the true awesomeness of life. Take this segment from the title poem:

He got into nails, of course,
because He'd always loved
hands—
hands were some of the best things
He'd ever done
and this way He could just
hold one in His
and admire those delicate
bones just above the knuckles,
delicate as birds' wings,
and after He'd done that
awhile,
He could paint all the nails
any color He wanted,
then say,
"Beautiful,"
and mean it.

Isn't that wonderful? I adore Cynthia Rylant's work. Take some time and enjoy her work for yourself.