I commend you all for taking time for the subject when I know you have so many other pressing issues. But as a Survivor and send it to random has turned us as both victim and victimizer and having gone through both the judicial system Correctional institutions in years of therapy. I hope that you will find something helpful in what I have to say this afternoon. My name is David. Well, I've spent the better part of the past 7 years putting my life back together re-establishing my place in my family and the community and wanting my abusive history to fade into the past. I decided to take the risk of sharing my story with you for the most part. My life is an open book and part of the public record in any case. But as a father in an employee of a large Metropolitan company that does business with many of your own firms. There are of course some risks in addressing this public of a form But Here I Go. To give you a brief sketch of my childhood and family of origin. I was raised on a farm in West Central Minnesota. My father of course was a farmer former business man on his own business in a small town. My mother was a teacher and I have one older brother. Outwardly, we were up perfectly normal family. Active in the church and Community Affairs, but at home, I had a private living hell. I was continually physically and verbally and emotionally abused by my mother ignored by my father. under the guise of Discipline I was regularly beaten whipped with leather belt straps chords greenwillow switches on bare bare buttocks. Whatever was convenient. Violent episodes such as having a dinner plate smashed over my face pale in comparison to having a shotgun barrel stuck in my mouth and being ordered to beg for my life on my knees. Only to be told I wasn't worth wasting a bullet on. Not conducive to Great self esteem. Believe me. I still up wake up at night tasting Cold Steel and we're talking 30 years ago. Enter into that scenario my 17 year old cousin from California who came to spend the summer with us when I was about 7 years old. for two months Excuse me to summers in a row. He was on our farm to straighten out his life. He was what we would probably call a juvenile delinquent by our terms, but I looked up to him as he was an older person who could blow smoke rings with the cigarettes and cuss but mostly because he took time for me. Is tickling in wrestling and touching me continued into the night when he would strip us both and carry me to his bed fondle and masturbate me and help me do the same to him. I didn't know it was sexual abuse. I never heard of that. I learned to think of it as love. And well, I didn't really like his touching me waking me up when I wanted to sleep or making a mess on me. I was willing to put up with it for this Haven. He created in the rest of my life. Ladies and gentlemen, children do learn what they live and they live what they learn. I know you hear that a lot, but it's true. Well, I do not blame the abuse I encountered for the abuse. I was to perpetrate later in my life or use it as an excuse rationalization or justification. Certainly it had an effect on me. Stunted my psychosexual development as I was to learn later, but I didn't know much about that at the time. I learned that several victims later. Seeking opportunities to be loved by others. I suffered embarrassment in several situations with peers both boys and girls as a teenager when I went when I mistakenly pushed for sexual activity when expressions of affection would have been more appropriate hurt people hurt people. I think I've ever write my autobiography. It'll be called hurt people hurt people. At age 17. I made the first of many bad decisions in my life. When I chose to act out with a young cousin who came to stay with us and I engaged in sexual activity that I knew he would like cuz I had like that. I began a three-year relationship with him that included all forms of sexual abuse, including fondling masturbation oral sex digital and anal penetration and when he moved away I moved right onto his friends that I met through him and other family members and continue to be using There were periods of time when I would force myself to stop abusing or for the lack of a convenient vulnerable victim to manipulate into a situation where I could have used. I would make attempts to establish appropriate relationships. During one of those periods. I met a wonderful young lady quartered and at age 23, I was married and began a family of my own. She was and is a marvelous cook seamstress housekeeper and mother. Yes. She was the mother that I've been looking for all my life. And we built ourselves the American dream. We both had good jobs home family tons of friends and oh, yes, she had two young nephews that I could have used. I had it all. And in 1978 my world caved in our nephew finally told his mother what was going on and she listened to him. Thank God. I was arrested charged with crimsix one-eyed guilty sentenced to 36 months, which was suspended did 10 days in the workhouse and sent to a marriage CARE program with my wife so we can improve our sexual relationship. I'll remember this was under the old guidelines and know that this was my first encounter with the system and while I was scared and affected at work and at home, I didn't find a help I needed to get to the root of my abusive Behavior. Having moved away from our neighborhood where my nephew lived at the request of the Court. We soon established ourselves in a new neighborhood. We assume the American dream adding our third child and became active in community church and school activities. And why did not have use any young men for over six years the fantasies fantasies continued ran rampant. And when in 1984, I found a Cooperative victim I once again began my old behaviors after almost a year. He finally told his dad and I was arrested in April 1985 this time charged with third-degree crimsix and probation violation. But then thanks to support a family friends pastors probation officer and a judge willing to listen. I was given the break of my lifetime a second chance. I was sentenced to one year in the workhouse 15 years probation and an inpatient treatment program. Finally. I was to get the help that I needed. I could take issue with the year. I didn't perservation all I learned there was two how to be a better crook. But certainly I owed my dues that I moved the Alpha House in Minneapolis. Which I'm sure you're all familiar with now, I don't know if any of you have gone to boot camp, but my first days weeks and months there were as close to that or he'll as I hope to ever get. 437 months 37 months I peel back layer after layer of my defenses and was forced to look at myself for who I am to learn how my behavior affects others to learn to recognize my feelings and how to express them appropriately to take responsibility for my decisions and actions to examine my sexual preference and sexuality issues and to grow up Not an easy task, but a necessary one and a costly want my marriage did not survive, but it was a mutual decision made out of care. and concern and love for each other. And the healing process continues with my own children my family and my friends. I didn't Jonah therapy can work especially residential community-based twenty-four-hour-a-day accountability treatment where those who are not serious or not amenable to treatment for whatever reason are weeded out. But those who want to change to stop their violent or abusive Behavior can find a safe controlled environment to do so it takes time and it takes money, but it also takes money to incarcerate. And I can assure you that our tax money was better spent on 37 months at Alpha in my case than 84 months at Stillwater. Let's return people to the community as healthy productive tax-paying citizens. Some of you may have read in the Wall Street Journal recently that America has surpassed South Africa in the highest incarceration rate per capita. Not something that we can be proud of But let me leave you with two Thoughts by me. Hopefully I have helped you understand or at least look at who abusers are. Bury The Stereotype of the creep in the trenchcoat lurking around the parks and playgrounds. They are us. They could be anyone they could be anyone's father son brother or mother. in any career or any profession they are us into that they are for the most part people with behaviors that can be changed and let us find ways to help them and their victims repair their lives rejoin society and their families as productive non-abusive citizens. If you could legislate it my wish would be for you to change the pervasiveness and sex of sex and sexuality in this country and in our media. And the pervasive belief that children don't count. Barring that let's not ignore what we know let's not throw people away long-term or 4 Life when there is help and hope it can work and you can make it work. And folks listen to your kids watch them know who they spend time with. Watch for changes in Behavior or mood and trust them. They will help ask for help if they need it. Not in words, Maybe. But they will ask in their own way. My name is Veronica and I was raised in the Twin Cities. The effects of child abuse have followed me throughout my entire life. I was raised by a guardian a member of our own family. I remember there was always food to eat a roof over my head and there was clothing to wear. But something was missing. There was never no hugs no kisses. No words of Praise. No, not for me. And I figured you only receive these perks when you're somebody's child. and I was knowing my mother died after I was born and I was told it was because of me. My father would show up from time to time. I get a pat on the head a handful of change and then he was gone. In all of my entire life. He never really got to know me. about the abuse My head was smashed against the kitchen wall until I saw Stars. I was beaten with broom handles hit in the head with a pop bottle. I was kicked and pushed down the basement stairs where the beatings took place. Atlanta was broken from our backyard trees the branches in plain to make them stronger. Large welts arose on my back my arms. My fingers would swell from trying to ward off the blows. I went to school. After these readings teacher wouldn't look at me. She turned her head the other way. But you'd say pick up your PIN pick up your pencil and do your math. Pretty hard to hold a pencil between swollen fingers. I remember one evening eating dinner and the ritual was eating my food taking a food out of my children's mouth. Well, one of her siblings spent into my food. Eat it. She said event. I couldn't I when I've begun to vomit my face was pushed into the bone. I was always told you're dumb. You're stupid. You'll never learn you'll never be anything and I believe it. I didn't learn my math. I didn't do my homework cuz I thought I was too dumb and I was never going to amount to anything. I retreated into a world of my own where no one could hurt me because I wouldn't let them in. Remember our neighbor had a garden and I'd watch her kindergarten pull the waves padding Earth nourishing her flowers. And when the garden was ready and I watch the garden and I watch my neighbor the rains came and kiss the Earth the Sun drains worm raise volume to Crown and when the flowers bloom by but they're the most beautiful flowers in the world. If only I had some of that nourishment. I wouldn't be so I could be so dumb. It sometimes takes a lifetime to rise above abuse. Abuse follows you like a jungle cat stalking its prey and when it's ready at attacks breaking bones stripping away the Flesh of your strips away your self-worth pride in yourself and your ability to set goals. To never think beyond the abuse and prepare for tomorrow. It leaves your Barron naked and vulnerable. Parenting education a place to feel safe and secure are all needed. We must extend to each other and helping hand and not a raised fist. Lettuce to instill in our children and in each other Pride dignity and high hopes for tomorrow. Berkeley all of one family a family a human being. Thank you. Can these venerable surroundings you better believe I'm very nervous and I'm a visibly Shake. But the resolve in the message that I have for you today is unshakable. My name is Brenda Lynn West and I'm Survivor of incest. I'm also a wife mother and a professional country songwriter who is determined not to sit in a corner and suck my thumb about it. I have instead Channel my energies into a country song entitled Amanda's secret, which was released in the south in December and for which I have just received three Country Music Association awards in the state of Alabama. I'm also given to know as of Monday that the song is doing extremely well. I am the youngest of four children we coexisted in an atmosphere that was fraught with uncontrollable tempers threats and physical violence inflicted first, we buy our parents then later on to each other. It did not seem unusual to witness my oldest brother beating my sister about the head and attempting to choke her when a simple dispute over a radio program turned ugly. It didn't feel abnormal for me to seal a butcher knife across the kitchen at the youngest brother who took the last piece of chocolate cake and refuse to share. What we experienced here is a pattern called generational abuse. And incest is too often a part of that syndrome in order to break that chain. Someone has to yell foul. And I guess that person is me. Family members have a right to the knowledge of incest no matter how painful it is received in October 1990. I wrote to each of my three siblings informing them of what happened to me at the hands of our father. The result has been totaled physical social and emotional excommunication. The wall of family denial was erected overnight and save or one letter from my eldest brother disowning me for life. There have been no further efforts to contact me from anyone much less address this divisive issue. Is it then worth the risk of telling all and letting the chips fall so to speak? I wouldn't have it any other way because firstly I must live with myself. Facing the reality daily that this hellish travesty really did happen to me. I've asked myself many many times why me? Why was I targeted for this special treatment? Given the time frame and the turn of events the reason or shall I say rationale on the part of my father becomes clearer to me? The scenario began in 1956 October in problems in my oldest brother's marriage his two-year-old daughter was sent to live with us temporarily this Arrangement stretched to five months during which time my mother who was already very physically and emotionally unwell was further exhausted by the additional daily stresses offered her by taking care of a rebellious toddler grandchild. She literally passed out at bedtime refit repeatedly refusing my father's sexual overtures, and I know this because I overheard many heated exchanges in the dark about this very issue. So his desperation then accorded him some sort of bizarre right to extract from me his daughter what he was denied from his own wife. I have surmised this logically in sequencing since the activity ceased when the grandchild was sent home. There is no excuse. There is no defense for what my father did to me. It was sickening degrading and humiliating The Fallout was heaped onto me in the form of Shame guilt and zero self-esteem ushering in a life of cyclical depressions that effectively consume 34 potentially productive years of my life. Incest Stripped Away my childhood robbed me of the initiative to pursue my goal of higher education and flown the end to a co-dependent status that invited to disastrous marriages back to back. As the daughter of an abuser. I was now attracting abusers. Fulfilling the prophecy of the aforementioned generational abuse. I was not home. Where were the only victim my second husband. Also sexually abused my fifteen-year-old daughter from my first marriage. That sure we ended the second marriage, but it did not end my pain nor hers. Deeply embedded feelings from my own sexual abuse were attempting to Surface by way of Haunting dreams and flashbacks becoming further depressed by these harbingers from the past. I endeavoured to end my own life twice once instead in 1979 and again in 1980. I guess I must have lunch suicide 101 cuz I'm still here and that's the good news. I was blessed in 1982 when I married my third and present husband. I found in him the kind of friend and true supporter. I had always thought life was good, but my demons from the past. They were still with me in 1989. I was blindsided by yet another severe depression and the urge to end it all. I could not attach any relevance between this desire to die and the current status of my life. When now apparently everything was going so well, but rather than succumb I saw it in 10 psychiatric therapy through thorough testing regression therapy and role-playing I was able to unearth the meanings of the dreams and flashbacks. I spent two and a half of the most productive years of my life with this therapist who herself had been in incest victim through her I finally became capable of owning an understanding my own feelings and a stop viewing my past and myself is a toxic waste dump. It was during this time. That I wrote Amanda Secret. Since the songs released I have heard reports from select DJs From various radio stations that it has spawned phone calls from tearful listeners confessing. This happened to me as a child. Do you know how gratifying this is to me? I know know that open and honest dialogue is the only offensive against this life crippler that now invests one-in-five Family dwellings. And these are only the reported cases. If we knew the actual numbers, they would be staggering. This is why I am here today and it what it is what keeps feeling my lecturing efforts to the church and Civic groups who asked me to speak to them. I'm grateful for the opportunities and we'll keep on going wherever I am called. The state of California has gone on record as the first to enact sweeping reforms in the extension of statute of limitations regarding incest since so many victims like myself are bringing memories forward years past the crime. It makes sense. That the abusers should be yet held accountable should their victims choose to Levy charges. This should send the message loud and clear do all incest offenders and potential offenders that incest for any reason in any form. from the touching of intimate body parts do actual penetration is never never okay? I have here an update. This is a news flash. I just received last night. I'm not the only one. My 20-year father's history in high school as an educator has come back to haunt him. I received a letter from a woman who had been a student. After she read the article in the Northfield news publicizing this event. Dear Brenda I-84 you when I read the news on February 12th the article about Amanda secret and I felt even sadder when I learned that your sister and your brothers had behaved sociably toward you when I was 13. Your father was the first man ever to kiss me. To my shock and horror I couldn't believe it. He was the most popular teacher in the junior high. We adored him. I was appalled and confused and disappointed but your mother was pregnant with you and had three older children and would have been in a precarious position if your father lost his job and I was certain that that would be the result if I told my parents so I remain silent and angry for years. It was ironic when your older brother told me bitterly about the past that a congregational Minister had made it your mother years before I wanted to tell her that his father did the same thing to me and two others. A friend one of my other classmates also boasted to the others that your father had kissed her. Probed her with his tongue. It never occurred to me then that I might be there might be more important reasons to let the truth be known and now I'm very sorry that I did not blow the whistle. It would have saved you years of Torment. I was too young and too ignorant to be able to imagine that this kind of trespass will develop into more serious form to the coming year. I grieve for your betrayal of love and trust that you suffered but I admire your honesty and your constructive pattern of your therapy and Recovery sincerely and I will not read her name. I thank you very much for the opportunity to discuss this issue today. Thank you.