Penn State is in a Shameful State

The last time I wrote about child molestation I received a considerable amount of hate mail. I am a mother so the mere thought of someone hurting my sons, especially in such a sick, twisted, violent way, makes my Mama Bear instincts go into a Tasmanian Devil fit. Even if I didn’t have children, the news of the events coming out of Penn State would still make me ill. I might be extra sensitive because I am a mother, but being a mom isn’t a prerequisite to be sickened by child molesters. Other than death and taxes, there are other certainties about life; being disgusted by child molesters is one of those incontrovertible facts of life. I have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to child abuse of any degree. Call me crazy.

Penn State officials have proven they are heartless, greedy bastards. Apparently a solid, winning football program trumps the safety and innocence of boys. I happen to have some dear friends who are very loyal to their Nittany Lions alma mater, but something like this is awfully hard to look past. It was suspected that children were being molested, yet no one stepped up to do the right thing. This isn’t a case of someone being suspected of watering down the Gatorade. These are CHILDREN we are talking about. I cannot even bring myself to write about the heinous acts committed to these kids. We as human beings have a moral responsibility to protect our children and speak up for the vulnerable. Penn State President Graham Spanier, Joe Paterno, and their Penn State cronies are “grieving for the victims” and blah blah blah. Their media handlers obviously planted those expected words that lack any real emotion or remorse. Some of these men claim they did their part by alerting their superiors. What about alerting the FREAKING AUTHORITIES?! I am so f*#@ing angry right now I could spit rusty nails. These men exhibited a shameful lack of humanity; this is more than a lack of judgement. Their actions are criminal.

If anyone can chime in with defense of these bastards, go right ahead. I’m willing to hear you out. But I will listen with bile in my mouth.

Is this a sign of the outrageous weight we give to sports in this country? How could greed and football possibly be more important than children getting molested by a grown man, a man they trusted? It’s beyond shameful and disgusting. There are no words. There are no excuses. Will there also be no recourse, no punishment, no justice? We have sports legend amnesia in this country. Football is merely a game; making sport of hunting and attacking young boys is a serious crime.

 

In case you’re interested, here’s what I wrote on September 21, 2009 about a case of child pornography. I’m having some link issues since I moved this blog from Blogger to Word Press so I am publishing the entire contents here:

My fair city of Raleigh has seen its share of shame lately. It is not even October, yet monsters lurk among us. They disguise themselves as our doctors, neighbors, bankers, teachers, pastors, colleagues, friends. Believe me when I tell you that there are indeed monsters underfoot. And you never know when one is going to send you in a tailspin.

A successful doctor killed a promising young ballerina just a week ago. He was drunk, careening his Mercedes at twice the posted speed limit and ran a red light. This case has me reeling, and I can’t seem to shake it. Taste my venom on the story here.

And today, I read in the paper that someone I know awaits sentencing for child pornography. David Chatham. Someone I have broken bread with. Someone I respected. It makes the skin on my neck shiver into icicles just to write these words. As a mother, nightmares such as this are the fibers my worst fears are made of. One of the excruciating details of this story involves a six-year old boy.

The same age as my Bird.

I taste bile and hate and disgust and repugnance when I think of it. My skin shivers, and my eyes get crossed at the back of my head. My heart races, and my fingers gnarl into stiff clenched fists.

To know this man, to have sat across the lunch table and the conference table from him on multiple occasions, makes the facts of the case surreal and more potent.

The reporter’s coverage fuels my disgust. I don’t know if Mandy Locke is a journalist, a tabloid reporter, or a public relations spinner. What I can tell you is she’s likely not a mother. At least not the kind of mother I am.

Let’s start with the headline:

“N. Carolina Man recalls how porn obsession cost him his life”

I don’t give a damn about his life! He’s a grown man who made choices. Don’t play the victim fiddle here. This headline is all about the criminal, laying its case for the subsequent sympathetic angle the story unfolds. Nothing other than getting caught fueled his desire to seek help.

And here’s the disclaimer that follows:

The following story contains explicit descriptions. Readers may find portions disturbing or offensive.

Is this what sells papers these days? Boy am I glad we canceled our News & Observer subscription a few weeks ago. The term “child pornography” is descriptor enough; readers do not need to visualize any more than the horrific images those words conjure up. It is unprofessional, insensitive, and plain blasphemous. The writer takes the cheap, shock approach here. The heinous details do not improve the story; they simply show that the writing is amateur tabloid journalism at best.

This is how Cornell University Law School defines child pornography. Suffice it to say I couldn’t stomach reading past the first few lines. Even the legal mumbo jumbo is painful to read. We certainly don’t need Locke’s shock value details to complete a story here.

Read on to see how the writer paints this man in a victim’s light:
“These children weren’t real to him. They had no mothers or fathers, no baseball games to play, no school field trips. There, on a flat computer screen, Chatham convinced himself this was make-believe. He didn’t hear their screams, didn’t notice their vacant expressions. This was his personal, private fantasy, and they were actors.”

Actors?! You have got to be kidding me! Even if they were actors, they were CHILDREN. Children acting in ways that no parent, not even the worst of the Toddlers in Tiara breed, would consent to. These kids were not acting, you dumb ass. They experienced horrific crimes of humanity acted upon them. Without their consent. Without a choice. Without a voice. These are someone’s sons, daughters. Innocent no more. Hell on earth that will burn the flames eternal wherever people like Chatham and his ilk end up.

Transparent spinning:

Clearly admitting culpability, finding God, and promising to help others are the ingredients to spin a tale of forgiveness for any crime. No one knows this better than David Chatham, the consummate public relations spinner. And here he goes down spinning his own crisis management tale. He must have still had some press contacts on his side to yield a story like the one in the News & Observer.

Let’s add to the cliche to show him in Bible study and toss in references to his discussions with his pastor. And is he welcomed and embraced by the same church that has banished homosexuals from its ranks? Let’s hammer home the sad, pathetic story line of the supportive wife awaiting his return from jail by focusing on their whispered I love you’s, frolicking in the waves over the summer, and forfeiting of the wedding ring as he’s whisked off to jail while she raises her ring in a show of solidarity. Let’s milk those cliches to play us all into seeing him as a do-gooder who’s found God and wants to help others stricken with his “craving,” as he puts it.

A craving is sneaking shots of Ready Whip in your mouth at 10:30 PM when you need a sugar fix, not amusing yourself with pornographic images of children being obscenely defiled.

This is how Mandy Locke describes Chatham:

“Chatham is a public relations specialist who knows the power of a compelling story and the need to get ahead of a negative one.”

No shit. This article is nothing more than transparency at its finest. David Chatham turned to God and promises to repent simply because he got caught. I see nothing earnest and genuine here. What I see is someone monstrous.

And now a word to my local newspaper:

New & Observer, you failed. You failed your readers. And worse, you failed our children. It is incumbent upon every single one of us to protect our children. When we fail to protect them, we must step in to advocate for them. We owe our children every ounce and every breath we can muster to keep them from harm and punish those who harm them.

We must adopt a zero tolerance policy for such unspeakable crimes against children. We must equip parents to be vigilant. We must encourage parents to trust their instincts. We must serve our communities one child at a time.

Mandy Locke’s article made no mention of the lifetime of pain these children endure. No mention of resources to seek help. No mention of empathy for the real victims here. The David Chathams of the earth do not deserve to be within reach of our heartstrings.

Since the newspaper provided no information or resources for parents and care givers (or even just concerned citizens), I will do so here. Here is the website for the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. And here is where you can find more resources on the sexual exploitation of children. The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children also has a cyber tipline. You can access it at www.cybertipline.com or call 1.800.843.5678.