Voiceless Victim

A survivor of clergy child sexual abuse speaks out for those who can't speak for themselves

You Ensured We Never Had A Chance

This poem is dedicated to all the apologists, enablers and paedophile protectors of the catholic church.

But particularly to the founder of the Passionist family group movement who introduced a monster into family homes. He then let this criminal have even more unsupervised access to his favourite prey through child/youth groups and weekend retreats. And left this dangerous predator in place for decades despite clear warning signs. And used his own alcoholism as an excuse for neglecting our safety, refused to speak to police investigating these crimes, and still thought it appropriate to recently accept a national award and the associated accolades.

It is also dedicated to the provincial of the Passionist order in Australia at the time this monster’s crimes were first revealed, who at the same time as covering up a monumental crime spree and hiding the culprit from justice by moving him interstate and changing his name, and denying assistance or justice to his dozens of victims, was also drafting the Towards Healing protocol still acclaimed throughout the catholic world as a model for how to deal with child rapists. And who has now been promoted to a cosy post at the UN, safe from facing responsibility for the coverup.

And to another provincial of the Passionist order who supervised the obstruction of a recent police investigation and exploitation of a legal technicality to ensure this same dangerous criminal, who he knows is a prolific offender, escaped trial and remains free, and hidden from scrutiny, and able to continue to offend.

But most of all this poem is dedicated to the community who helped create the Passionist family group movement, who promote themselves worldwide as A Family For All, but sacrifice innocent children, looking the other way because they are too cowardly to upset the catholic hierarchy, enabling child sex crimes, or even forcing their own children to submit and to shut up.

 You Ensured We Never Had A Chance

by Voiceless Victim

I was vulnerable but you let him target me.

I was defenceless, he violated me, but you looked the other way.

I was alone in my pain because you abandonded me.

I suffered deeply but you made me pretend nothing was wrong.

I needed support but you were too cowardly to stand up for me.

I was not the only one, because you let him continue to ruin lives.

You were finally forced to act, but all you did was hide him from justice.

You made a list of his many victims, but prevented our recovery.

I was too scared, but others begged you to do the right thing, and you punished them.

I needed to know but you kept me in the dark.

I finally spoke up and you obstructed the police.

I saw him arrested, then saw you get him off scott free.

I had eyewitnesses, but you stole my right to a trial.

I was robbed of justice so you could pretend his crimes never happened.

That you are holy and deserving of respect.

You are not.

He committed thousands of child sex crimes against dozens of little girls.

And you let him.

Then protected him from all responsibility for his actions and now keep his whereabouts secret.

But what of all the little girls he destroyed?

What of the suicides, the shattered lives?

Our potential smashed before we had a chance to grow up?

What of our suffering, our families trying to cope with our issues, unaware of the cause?

We are damaged, almost beyond repair, and now our kids and grandkids will also pay the price.

But you, and he, believe you are above the law, that you don’t have to pay.

That we should pay for your crimes as well as his.

We could have survived what he did, if we had received help.

If the attacks had stopped, instead of being allowed to continue for years.

If you hadn’t lied to us, about us, and treated us as the guilty ones.

But what we experienced was a threat to you, your reputation, and the power and wealth of your church.

Our suffering made us your enemies, to be sacrificed and silenced and destroyed.

We never wanted any of this, never asked for it, and certainly never deserved it.

We were just little girls, eager for our chance at life.

He preyed upon us.

You ensured we never had a chance.

But while nightmares regularly rob us of sleep, perhaps you share this one thing with those you have so grievously harmed.

For knowing what you know, and what you did and are still doing, how can you sleep at night?

How can you deliberately harm so many and still expect to pass your final judgement?

You can’t possibly believe what you preach, because no god would welcome you to heaven when you have put so many innocents through hell.

I am not afraid of your god, or of your hell.

Nothing could be worse than what you have already forced me to endure.

I can take anything your obscenely wealthy and corruptly influential church cares to throw at me.

I know you will continue to attack me while I refuse to suffer in silence like a good little victim.

I know you would all like nothing better than for victims to die off as soon as possible and solve this problem of your own making.

But I will not be silent and I will not die.

I would not be surprised if you send a hitman after me one day.

I’ve already been bullied legally by your alley cat lawyers, and verbally by your thuggish enforcer.

Yet I’m not afraid.

After a childhood of constant terror, and an adulthood scared of everything and everyone, I’m not wasting any more time on fear.

I suppose I should thank you for that.


5 responses to “You Ensured We Never Had A Chance

  1. Leonard Marks July 6, 2012 at 10:53 am

    great post

    • ladyrob January 8, 2013 at 9:34 am

      “You Ensured we never had a chance” is a poem that breaks my heart and at the same time gives me a the voice that I have been stifling for almost 40 years. Mine is a voice of despair. I despair of anything ever changing. Each time I have the misfortune to turn on the TV and see some sumptuous church ceremony where people like George Pell, all decked out in their sacred medieval array throwing tap water from a Council reticulated water supply at people…(water probably full of microbes and God knows what bacteria rendered defenceless for a while by all the added chlorine, the same stuff used in rat killer bait), water proclaimed to be “holy water” (because some priest waved his majic wand over it)…wetting the gathered faithful with it as it spews from a penis-shaped…’holy water thrower’, and see the old ladies taking pictures on their mobiles of this sacred and magical theatrical performance…I feel sick, I feel demeaned and worse…I feel hopelessness! Without hope there is no reason to keep on living and this is what they’ve done to me. I never had a chance! I know the feeling well. I was abandoned from the start, My mother was herself victim of church abuse. I was born of rape in marriage. When came my turn I was the priests’ and the nuns’ prey because my mother had given them access to me in her blinded faith and hopelessness. When they stole me from her believing they had a right because they were doing God’s Will she did nothing but cower in a corner. Hope was stolen from me before I ever understood that without it my life would be empty. It was and it is and I’ve lived it on auto pilot. Nobody could save me. I never had a chance at happiness or at fuflfllment. My youthful enthusiasm was not stolen from me but rather I was prevented from ever experiencing it. I feigned everything, fun, laughter, enjoyment, feeling, satisfaction, nothing ever meant anything to me. I drowned out the emptiness and the exhaustion from carrying on with this charade by going to movies and reading about other people’s horrors suffered during the war…maybe there was something to learn about how to live when all hope was gone. As amazing as this Royal Commission is with all it promises, I lived, having been forced, inside the walls of one of the Church’s most insidious institutions..not because of its medieval origins but because it was new and in promising hope it killed hope. So, because I never had a chance, because I do not dare to hope, because I am contaminated by the germs and bacteria of church holiness and hopelessness I despair at what the Royal Commission promises, I despair at all the insidious obstacles it faces. I despair despite I see all those who rally to each other’s side, the army of wounded victims advancing in blood-soaked sackcloth, covered in ashes. I wished for a glimmer of HOPE and in this poem I’ve found my War Cry. Maybe if I scream it out a new dawn will rise .

      • voicelessvictim February 4, 2013 at 2:06 pm

        I am thrilled that your despair has turned to hope, and that I may have had some part in that, though of course the credit belongs with you, who did the hard work. Reaching inside and understanding yourself and what happened to you, and resolving to change and grow, and to not be abused or controlled any longer, that is the real work. After that the rest, by comparison, if not easy is at least clear.

        But it saddens me enormously the extent of what was stolen from you, from me, and from so many thousands, millions of other children by criminals who have the audacity to demand our respect and our obedience to their cruel and self serving traditions.

        We cannot change what happened to us in the past. We can change our future so it is not more of the same. And we can work to ensure other children are not sacrificed to share our fate.

  2. My Heathen Heart January 8, 2013 at 9:58 am

    The Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Catholic Church have much in common; they, too, turned a blind eye to what one of their monsters did in our family home and in the homes of several other child victims. If only hell existed, I’d wish them an eternity in it.

    I’m sorry you’ve suffered so much and I applaud your courage in speaking out.

    • voicelessvictim February 4, 2013 at 1:08 pm

      Indeed anyone struggling to face reality after being brought up in a cult like environment such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses or the Catholic Church requires enormous courage, and each survivor is an example of the triumph of the human spirit over cruelty and criminality.

      I am so sorry for your suffering and feel certain many have benefitted from your own courage in telling of your experiences with the Jehovah’s Witnesses and escaping from their attempts to control you and live your own life.

      I sincerely hope victims of criminals protected by the Jehovah’s Witnesses feel safe enough to speak of their experiences to the Royal Commission, and to reach out for assistance.

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