It’s been a few weeks since I dropped a bomb on one of the threads here.
It wasn’t my intention to just go silent. Immediately after my post my
attention was snatched by a flooded basement, two sick pets, and the need
for some changes in my Mom’s care. (All is fine on all fronts now.) After
that there had been so much rich conversation and dialogue that I felt
overwhelmed at the prospect of responding in an articulate and meaningful
way; I got paralyzed. Karen Snyder broke through my paralysis when she
contacted me last week to talk about a witness I gave in 1983 (I was 22)
about Celebration 10, a Student House reunion/gathering. After talking
with Karen I decided I just need to write SOMETHING, even if I don’t have
all my thoughts and feelings sorted out. I have no illusions that I can
tell my whole story in one piece of writing. (Marsha spent months writing
her reflections; I think David Marshall spent 20ish (?) years writing “Iron
Boy.”) Today, my only intention is to write from my heart, to tell some
pieces of my experience, my truth. Bear with me if I ramble a bit; if I
let my inner critic get too involved, I’ll never post anything. 😊 So … in
no particular order:
~ Starting with the bomb I dropped a few weeks back … I was sexually
molested by the first prior in the house I was assigned to when I was in 7th
grade. I think that person left the Order not too long after that, and I
am almost certain he has died by now. I pushed that experience and the
memories down for many years and finally faced them when I was in my late
20s. Therapy and conversations with the people closest to me helped me
process, heal and move forward. Even so, as with any powerful life
experience, the experience shapes one, becomes part of one’s fiber, woven
in. The experience does not define me. It also cannot un-happen.
~ I live with an interesting paradox at my center. Unlike many of my 2nd
Generation peers, I have never wished I had a different life than I had
growing up. I have many very fond memories from my life in the Order,
which started when I was 3 years old. I have always been grateful for the
many gifts that came with that life: community; a big extended family with
scores of extra brothers and sisters and lifelong friendships; a global
perspective; a trained intellect; a profound understanding of and care
about the injustices in the world. There are many others. At the same
time, there is just as much that makes me sad and angry. I could start
right there—emotions. The Order was intellectually brilliant … and largely
devoid of heart and compassion. Love is not just a structural approach; it
is also a human emotion (and I’m not just talking about romantic love).
>From my perspective, emotion wasn’t just ignored it was considered weak,
wrong, unhelpful … put down and squelched. What a loss for all of us. And
to return to one of the central pieces of recent discussion … in my
opinion, separating families and not TRULY caring for children and youth
was a HUGE mistake. I’ve always felt my parents’ love and I’ve always
loved them powerfully, and when my father died I was devastated to realize
how few actual memories I had of time with him before my parents moved to
Bloomington when I was 43 and he was 73. Would there have been hard times
and “bad” memories if we’d been together all those years? Of course! That
doesn't change that I was denied years of connection with my parents. How
sad that at some point the decision was made to take “family” out of
“family order.” There’s a lot more I could say about good and bad, pro and
con, but it’s more than I am up to at the moment. Perhaps the main point I
want to make is that acknowledging mistakes doesn’t mean there was no good,
no value. I am a product of all of it.
~ Back to my appreciation of our community: I have ALWAYS been so grateful
for my Order family. I have wonderful memories of SO many of you! I
remember the Marshalls and Hahns all going out for dinner in our VW beetle
(yes, there were 10 of us!) one family night. The Barleys took me in as
family and cared for me exquisitely for three months when I was in 4th
grade when my parents first went to England. The Wainwrights and Baileys
were my family in Santa Monica, the Averys and Bonnells (before Clare was
even a Bonnell 😊) in England. Alfrieda Wilkins was my guardian when I was
in high school and did a stellar job in a difficult role—big sister,
friend, mentor. Martha Laird was assigned to oversee our youth cluster at
Kemper when I was 16 or 17 and we all adored her (she got off easy with a
fairly responsible bunch 😊). Bob Rafos was my surrogate dad when I was 18
and largely lost. Seeing so many of your faces and hearing your words
during my father’s Zoom memorial service was the greatest gift I could have
received at that painful time. I could go on and on. I am SO GRATEFUL for
this bunch of human beings. Get ready for the emotion: I have real love
for so many of you. This is my truth just as much as the truth that I was
molested as a child.
~ And I have to address this separately: I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE my 2nd
Generation family. I have a weekly breakfast with Tamara McClelland and
Jane St. John. Yesterday as we walked to our favorite haunt, Jane said,
“WE are the greatest gift we got from the Order.” “We” meaning all of us
who grew up in the Order, in all of the different iterations and phases,
with all the attendant joys and pains. She is right. The love and
connection we share with one another is big and intense and powerful.
Three weeks ago my husband and I drove to Chicago for a get together with
Mark & Cari (Boivin) Jewell, Pat (Boivin) and Tom Price, David Allan and
his wife, Susan, Chris Boivin, and Sharon Rafos. Chris & I realized we
hadn’t seen each other in 35 years. It didn’t matter. From the instant
that we all greeted each other it was as if not a week had passed. We
support each other. We get each other. We celebrate each other. We
listen to each other. Our reunions are fantastic. Big love. And I want to
say as carefully and gently as I can: a big part of why we are so tight is
that we get each other’s pain. Many of my peers say we came out as well as
we did in spite of the Order, not because of it. Speaking for myself, I
believe it’s a mix. But I think I can guarantee that none of us feel that
the ends justify the means when it comes to the mistakes that were made
with regard to how we were raised.
That’s about as much as I have energy for right now. I mentioned that
Karen Snyder contacted me about a witness I did in 1983. Wow! Karen asked
for my permission to share that piece from the archives. On reflection, I
don’t want to share that without also taking time to do a re-write from my
64-year-old perspective. Perhaps you’ll be seeing that in the
not-too-distant future.
A number of you reached out to me after my very short post a few weeks
back. Please forgive me for not responding to you individually sooner. I
do intend to get back to each of you soon, now that my heart and mind have
settled a bit.
Thanks to everyone for being out there. Thank you for “listening.” Thank
you for being part of an important dialogue
With love and respect,
Shelley Hahn
