A long time ago in a country far, far away…
Early twentieth century Russia. A young boy has many difficulties to endure in his life. His parents have split up, his frigid mother leaving him and his brother in the custody of his father. Subsequently, she leaves the country. Then his father is killed while serving in the army. The brothers are to live with an uncle on a farm. But the young boy leaves, becoming a street urchin, selling newspapers on the train. At a certain point he falls from a train, losing half a finger in the process. He becomes hardened with the cold realities of living.
A concerned grandmother begins a search for her two grandsons. Finally, they are located and then the 2 brothers are taken to America. A new chapter in their lives begins.
But it is not always an easy life. And it is not easy to forget the difficulties of the past.
Several years pass. The boy becomes a man and meets a young woman. Subsequently, they marry and have three children, a boy and two girls.
Over the years, their youngest child, one of the girls, observes that her life-hardened father treats her mother in a harsh manner. Viewing this continuing course of conduct, the girl becomes concerned. It will not be this way when it is her time to marry.
Subsequently, the girl does marry, at the age of 18. She has been employed as a buyer at Kresge, later to be known as K-Mart. She enjoys her work.
But by age 19, she is a mother. And in the coming years, there will be 4 more children. It will never be easy.
And she is determined to avoid the harshness that her father directed toward her mother. And so she does. But it is replaced with a hair-trigger anger, directed not only at her husband, but also at her 5 children. Perhaps, this is due in part, to finding herself a mother at such a young age.
And her husband, having suffered with frigid parents of his own, accepts the many outbursts produced by his wife’s anger without complaint. And apparently, his failure to respond to his wife’s anger, adds more fuel to her fire. He is weak. In fact, he mirrors her quick anger towards the children, if not all of the coming violence.
And the violence came. It came in many forms. It came in the form of beatings with an ancient commercial rolling pin. It came in the form of hair being pulled. It came in the form of fingernails being dug into a child’s flesh until blood flowed. It came in the form of the sweeping of an arm, clearing a child’s bedroom shelves of all his precious possessions.
And the husband mirrored some of this behavior too, to a lesser degree.
And even when there wasn’t the violence, there was always an uneasiness because of the near-constant anger and outbursts.
And the five children grew, the anger effecting them in various ways. Some handled it relatively well, others to a lesser degree.
Eventually, the five offspring became parents of their own children. And guarding against the cycle of anger required a near-constant vigilance.
Never ending vigilance and love from 5 caring children that have children of their own.
Hugs for the courage to tell this story. Love because you recognize the cycle of violence. Even more love because you are breaking that cycle with love. Love to ALL that watch and work to break the chain with love.
Love and hugs my friend…
oh wow. I am just speechless.
Whenever I get angry or irrtated with my son, I put myself in time-out not him. I sit outside on the phone to a friend or say a little mantra of mine. The cycle of abuse stops with me. The cycle of abuse stops with me. Over and over again. It helps.
Thank you for your story Boran.
Now I know why I’ve always been “drawn” to you.
What a strange nation this is that say’s it’s so great while so many are having to be vigilant due to it’s brutality and it’s ignoring the harm done to it’s weakest.
I’ve found that it’s not only about breaking the chains, it’s also about trying to creat links. My daughter is such the creative, artist – in so many mediums. Something that wasn’t fostered in my family… so I try to support her passions.
My love and respect to you my friend.
(The Apple Trees are in awe, too 🙂 )
Thanks to all. I thought about this a long time before writing it and left the keyboard in tears when I finally posted it.
There are so many men and women like you…and you are all courageous beyond belief. Each of us that breaks the cycle makes the world a better place. We cry together…ever vigilant…but the love for the children keeps us strong and going every single day. My love and admiration for you is strong and doesn’t waiver.
Blessed be my friend.
Your story brought tears to my eyes as well. Thank you for sharing that piece of yourself with us.
{{{boran2}}}
Dear Boran – I did not see your diary until this evening, for which I’m sorry.
Thank you for tell your story. (Wow, it is such a “good” example of how abuse occurs, as researchers have identified the key elements. I would love to share your post with my students when I talk about this next year, but only with your permission.)
There is one thing, no, at least two and likely more that will make things turn out well for you and your children, if you have any. You aren’t going to abuse children. Why? 1. you aren’t isolated, separated from a support system (or so it appears). 2. Likely the most important, uou aren’t going to use hitting, because you know it is a dangerous thing, too easy to get out of control. People who don’t hit kids may otherwise be rotten parents, but they won’t be physically abusive.
That’s what you vigilance does. It has prevented and will continue to prevent a continuation of any cycles of violence.
I understand that vigilance, because even though I am a prof in child clinical psych, with lots of experience and training, my first inclination when a child misbehaves, is to hit that child (as I saw and experienced personally in childhood many many times at the hands of my parents). But as an adult, I have never hit a child under any circumstances whatever. That takes a deliberate decision, and vigilance, and you have it.
And I’m so in awe of what you have told us and how you are acting on that need for vigilance.
Thanks. Please feel free to use it.