Santa Cruz Sentinel

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There was a lot of public awareness about child abuse in the late ’80s and early ’90s, especially after publication of the ground-breaking book by Ellen Bass and Laura Davis, "The Courage to Heal."

Every now and then spurts of public attention have been given to this epidemic. But it is still something that remains hidden below society’s surface, screaming at deaf ears for us to listen.

I first wrote about Leti for the Arkansas Democrat (in Little Rock) and First Word Bulletin (in Spain) in 1992. Not much has changed since that writing — other than Leti, who is now 25 and flourishing.

The beautiful pearl we saw hidden under her protective shell is now dancing with delight and fully engaged in pursing her life dreams.

I thought I understood the devastation child abuse caused, but its impact never really hit me in the face until my wife and I became foster-parents to our foster-daughter, Leti.

The reality of her life broke through any illusions we had about the affects of child abuse on the survivors. We would have sworn we were prepared for Leti and knew just what to expect.

We were gravely mistaken.

Night after night, we heard her crying herself to sleep: soft weeping sometimes, or heart-wrenching sobs and wails.

As weeks filtered by, we repeatedly comforted Leti with our words and actions. She needed to know she was a person of value, strength and beauty. In addition to the physical and sexual abuse, she had endured extreme emotional trauma.

After three or four months, Leti could do no wrong. She was involved in school and plays, had an abundance of friends and appeared happy and sure of herself.

But just as all seemed quiet, a new internal assault flooded her mind and began to wreak havoc on her heart and soul.

It was midnight when we heard a loud thumping coming from her room. Shrieks and screams followed.

As we got to her bedroom door, we heard her yelling, "Help me, help me, help me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Stay out, stay out."

We tried to open the door, but she’d locked it and would not let us in.

We tried everything we could think of: shouting, begging, bargaining, demanding — still no luck.

Finally, we jimmied the lock and got into her room.

Leti was lying under a blanket, hiding in the closet. She refused to look at us. Her hand was black-and-blue from slamming the wall. She was having a flashback, grabbing at her throat, clawing at her face.

That night seemed to last forever.

After hours of holding, talking and crying, she slowly came out of her hell.

She told us of suicidal thoughts and actions. We called her therapist for help, and over the next few days worked with the situation the best we could. A little light began to shine through the darkness.

And so it goes. Day after day, week after week, month after month. Far from being experts on parenting and abuse, we discovered we are more like babes in the woods.

Leti is one of the lucky ones. She had enough strength and courage to leave her abusive environment, break through her denial of the abuse and begin a new life.

Even so, it has been difficult to feel all the ugliness, all the sadness, all the pain she goes through.

Leti shown us that she and others who survive abuse as children can rebuild their lives.

We, as a society, must take the step Leti and other survivors have taken and free ourselves from the denial that surrounds child abuse.

One of the first steps is to recognize the extent and depth of abuse in our own lives. We cannot keep child abuse a secret any longer.

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