The #MeToo movement was founded by Tarana Burke in 2006, the same year I was groomed by my best friend’s father. I was 15 years old. It wasn’t until 2016 when Alyssa Milano’s tweet did I — and most of the world — hear about the movement as it gained widespread attention. The internet was buzzing as men and women both opened up about their experiences of abuse.
I watched from afar as one viral tweet from Alyssa Milano gave so many the confidence to believe the internet was a safe enough place to speak openly about traumatic experiences. I was jealous as I had spent years crying to friends, trying to explain how badly I was hurting, only to receive uncomfortable gazes that I was bringing it up yet again. As I watched the movement rise, I was sick with jealousy and anger. I believed, if my story was worth the trauma, my friends would have hugged me, been outraged for me, and told an adult instead of rolling their eyes.
When Hollywood was getting involved with #SpeakUp, I believed the nail was in the proverbial coffin. My trauma hadn’t been enough before, and I wasn’t famous, so my story would never matter. I told myself to suck it up, and went on with my vow of silence on the issue.
And then came 2020. While the world was baking bread and putting together puzzles, I was giving birth to my son. Parenthood, as cliche as it sounds, changed something inside of me. One day while I was holding in my arms a baby who could barely do more than lift his neck, he farted. That wasn’t surprising. What surprised me was that he giggled. It was such a boyish thing, to giggle at a fart, that for the first time I looked at my child and panicked. Although he can be whomever he chooses to be, at his young age I was looking into the face of someone who might one day be a man in this world. I knew then the issue was more complicated. I couldn’t just protect this child, I needed to instill in him strong enough morals to overcome the rape culture that prevails in our society. I had to know my child would never perpetuate abuses against another person.
I thought of my childhood church. Christ is where most turn for moral guidance, and he instills in parishioners a godly value system. And yet, I realized, I had never even thought of seeking help or guidance from my own pastor growing up. Although being groomed was traumatic, I had other experiences that were worse, and for those I had sought both support and guidance. Something about my church experience, though wonderful in so many ways, had left me feeling too unsafe to find help with Christ for this issue.
Welcome to Samaria
You know the story: Jesus asks an unsuspecting Samaritan woman for a drink. She is surprised because she believed Jews would not associate with her. She had been raised to believe historical, racial, gender, and religious differences between groups (in this case the Jews and Samaritans) would divide them. It is then Christ and the woman go on a conversational journey about these old beliefs.
The woman is locked into theologically based traditions and values which, if left to continue, will impede her growth and potential. As they talk, Christ is leading her towards the bigger picture, but it is with duality he is genuinely interested in her heart, circumstances, and story.
I want to encourage Church leaders to begin a journey into becoming a safe place for every person by inviting victims and women within their communities to talk about how to dismantle barriers. This is the first, and most important starting place. While I will give suggestions below on ideas that came to me, the real work begins by acknowledging that this group of people may have something important you need to hear so as not to impede your own growth and potential.
That said, please use this list as examples during to kick off the conversation:
- Inspire men and women into action without shaming, just by using the words of Christ himself.
- Teach young people about acceptable levels of touching and why it matters to God.
- Be honest and transparent about healthy ways to express interest in another person.
- Hold all congregation members to the same standard of behavior using church discipline when appropriate and calling the authorities when a crime has been convicted.
- Cultivate a culture of listening and compassion for victims.
- Invite victims’ stories to be told from the pulpit.
- Don’t counsel victims to forgive and forget.
- If a victim makes an allegation within your community, do not fail to be alarmed by reports of concerning behavior. The “missing stair” is no longer an appropriate way of classifying people.
God beckons all who are hurting to the safe haven of His home. I encourage you to make your community safe enough that every 15-year-old girl would have the confidence to ask for help in her darkest moments.
