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