Portrait,Of,A,Sleeping,Woman

Witch Trials and Penis Envy

Mary and Rhoda (their real names) were the training supervisors during my first year in grad school.  There were 20 students from three different area schools.  I was lucky to have Mary who was both intelligent and warm.  Rhoda may have known her stuff but she was hard.  Her students complained and Mary’s supervisees thought Rhoda ruined the weekly staff meeting.  I volunteered to speak up at the next meeting and they all said they would back me.  I spoke up and was left alone to face Rhoda’s wraith.  They meant well, but she was scary.

Jeff, a fellow Hunter student ‘explained this’ (mansplaining?) “Look, she’s old and past her sexual desirability, in her 50s (so was Mary, BTW) and you are still young enough (I was 32) to have the sexual energy.”  I was very uncomfortable with his describing me that way; maybe he thought he had the right to do it or assumed I would be flattered. I was mostly bothered that he reduced Rhoda’s nasty demeanor to being an envious old woman.  I argued with him, but of course, he was right, dontcha know.

*******

Throughout the hundreds of years of witch trials in Europe and America, being old was often considered a crime worthy of a witch trial.  Being old and not sexy meant a woman would be malevolent unless she were too sexy which was also dangerous.

The history of witchcraft in 17th century America includes trial by water.  Throw a suspected witch into a pond. If she is a witch, the pure waters will reject her, and she will float to the top and be executed.  If she was innocent they tried and usually failed to get her out before she ceased breathing. 

Fast-forward to the late 20th century. After grad school, I attended one of the ubiquitous post-grad therapy institutes in the greater NY metro. Mine was pretty eclectic, covering mostly the British School of Object Relations, Kohutian Self Psychology, and the like. Forty years later, I am grateful for what I learned there and integrate most of it into my work, which today includes cognitive and behavioral work. I just wish they had taught Jung.

The entire faculty acknowledged Freud as the father of psychoanalysis, which is what we were being taught.  They revered him with no worship.  My favorite supervisor, Manny, once asked me, “I wonder if penis envy exists for women, I know men have it, but do women?”

We had two faculty members and one student who were total believers.  Penis envy is not just curiosity or the desire to have one, wishing that appendage was forever attached for the advantages, no.  Penis envy works this way:  Girls are happy with themselves until they view a penis.  It doesn’t matter what age she is; as soon as she sees one, she is thrown into the depths of despair, inferiority, and shame, which will guide everything in her life forever.  Her only chance is a good analyst who will help her recognize and admit to this so she can get on with life as a lesser, but mature being.  A woman’s maturity and mental health depend on her acknowledging her inferiority because of a body part. There you go, ladies, that explains it all. Don’t argue of even think about it.

Back to witches.  Dr. Bob M.  was a true believer.  I made the mistake of asking, “What about females with no brothers who never saw a penis until adulthood?”  Instantly I had floated to the top of his pond, I could vision him angrily pointing his index finger at me as he ‘calmly’  stated that what I just said was proof of penis envy. (Mine or his?) I knew better than to mention the older sisters who wanted to know what was wrong with their baby brothers.

The student was Dr Jim, he was a PhD and the only male in our group of 5 with four female social workers.  When we were handed reading assignments from psychoanalytic journals he would question if the class, including himself, was up to reading this. We ‘girls’ just read and discussed while he worried. He also had his proof.  The story was, that a girl got her first period her mother said she would get her a pad, the girl thought she said ‘pan’ and since pans have handles which are phallic symbols, well, you know the rest.

Having learned my lesson, I never mentioned that little kids, boys, and girls, usually thought that people with unusual growths such as warts were gross, not something to be envied or feel inferior to, but as I said, that lake was cold.

Dr. Susan was an instructor so easy to ridicule or parody that describing her fills me with guilt. As an older teen, she was in analysis with a man who later became a widower. Susan then married him and mothered his son, having no children of her own. She often came to class in a red blazer, white blouse, and pleated skirt, looking very much like a Catholic schoolgirl and not the sexy kind.

Our classes consisted of her teaching us that every woman’s destiny was penis envy and mental health was admitting that and accepting the role that came with it.

I set up a small conference for area therapists.  These were the days when everything was done by mail.  Dr. Susan signed up to teach one seminar on penis envy, of course.  When the applications were returned only 5 women signed up, that was “proof” that all women suffered.  There were two sessions with three options.  Hers was in the first group and she planned to be driven back to the city immediately after. While other presenters attended other sessions, she had no intention of that.   When none of those who signed up attended her class, she gracelessly sat in the hall until taken home rather than attend someone else’s.   The saving grace for her was that she had more “proof”

One day in class someone presented a case.  Her patient’s husband demanded and would only have oral sex.  I did ask if it was reciprocal, and no, it wasn’t.   Dr. Susan and I were both getting hot under the collar about it.  Wow, could it be that we agreed on something? I was annoyed by the selfishness.  Her problem, however, was that the woman was infantilizing her husband by not insisting on intercourse and thus she was castrating him which, wait for it, was proof of …..Penis Envy!    Witches were accused of stealing men’s penises, even though none ever went missing.  The water was getting colder.

This is well in my past and I can joke about it.  Most of my institution’s people, students, and instructors paid no attention to it.  I used the valuable information from the sources that made sense and left the rest.

Recently, I got a new patient, a woman in her 70s who grew up as the second daughter of a large Catholic family in the northeast.  Her father worked during the day and went to the bar with his friends at night, coming home long enough to make another baby. Her sister had left by the time her mother got cancer, leaving her to care for the mother and younger sibs by herself.  After her mother died, the kids were her responsibility.  She went to the priest for help. He angrily told her that her father was a good Catholic man who made a lot of babies and she would go to Hell for talking badly about him.

Fortunately, she did see a psychiatrist who told her that if she didn’t leave and move in with her sister he would have her committed to a mental hospital.  That was in the day when a commitment would be months or years.  She went to her sister’s.

She got married and had a couple of kids but her life was a struggle to escape her upbringing mentally.  She had gone into therapy with a woman while in her 30s in New York hoping to get rid of this past and the trauma from a rape when she was a child.  She hoped that she would get help.

She found a woman therapist who spent 2 years and 9 months talking to her about her “penis envy.”

And suddenly I stopped laughing, it wasn’t amusing at all.

Julia 1984

JULIA: A Retelling of George Orwell’s 1984. by Sandra Newman

 

A novel

I love books that tell well-known stories through the eyes of another character.  Wicked, The Red Tent, and Stone Blind (the story of Medusa) to name a few.  I was still amazed when I discovered Julia, a Retelling of George Orwell’s 1984.  I could barely wait to get my hands on it and was not disappointed.

I read 1984 in the 9th grade, some 60 years ago, and used discipline to reread it before I allowed myself Julia.  I also kept wondering what it would have been like if I hadn’t read 1984 first. It’s up to you, reader. The book has become such a reference in our culture that there are probably people who think they read it and haven’t.  I knew all the references such as Double Speak and calling things Orwellian, but the only things I remembered on my own were the rats and the iconic moment when a leader gave a Hate Week Speech denouncing Eurasia and in mid-sentence, the enemy was changed to Eastasia (or was it the other way around?) All the posters were removed and replaced.  No one noticed.

I barely remembered Julia at all.  She disappeared into 1984 much as Eileen became invisible In Wifedom, Mrs. Orwell’s Invisible Life.  The two books shared a lot.

Winston Smith, the male protagonist of the original is miserable.  He works in the Ministry of Truth where his job is to rewrite history as enemies change and people disappear.  He is obsessed with finding what is real.  Towards this end, he begins to take dangerous chances.   He also has his eye on Julia, a mechanic at his ministry.  She is much younger, attractive, and wears the red sash of the Anti-Sex League.  He wants her and hates her.  He fantasizes about taking her sexually and smashing in her head as he knows she is unavailable.  He sees her as the symbol of all that is wrong in their society.  Of course, he only knows her in his imagination.

In Julia, we meet her as she is.  In juxtaposition to Winston’s dour serious obsessions, Julia has found a way to live;   It’s very difficult but she does it.  As a woman she has made the best life she could under the circumstances.

In 1984, Julia suddenly and surreptitiously hands Winston a note.  “I love you”. In my reread 1984  I was held up.  Why on earth would she do that?  Other than the importance of advancing the story, it made no sense. In Orwell’s world what women do didn’t have to make sense, it wasn’t that important.  In Julia, we learn much more about that and it becomes plausible.  Julia is actually the moving force behind the entire story, just like Eileen.  While Winston was off in fantasy about what is real, Julia had them both living a life.  He did not bring them to their end.  It was her.

In Wifedom, Eileen is what enables Orwell to do what he did.  She typed and edited his manuscripts, tended his goats, and fixed his heating system and toilets.  It is possible that she was the genius behind Animal Farm.  It became clear that Julia was really Eileen. Orwell and his 7 biographers made Eileen invisible in life.  Julia was invisible in Winston’s story, but we also see that in both the novel and the reality he had no life without her.


STUDY QUESTIONS

These questions are generally for book clubs, however, can be used for contemplation or talking to a friend.  Spoiler Alert: These questions are designed for people who have read the entire book.  If surprises matter, do not read these now.

  1.  Why, do you think, that Julia, a woman was able to have a much more colorful life than Winston’s black-and-white misery?
  2. The movie, 1984 was made in black and white. This was as it should be. Even though Julia was set in the same place and time, I see the movie in color.  Do you agree and why or why not?
  3. Julia saves herself in the end, mostly by not giving up.  She finds a hopeful world, but then sees the seeds of more problems, similar to what she left.  How do you see her using that?  Does she try to prevent it, or just go back to living as best she could?

Related

1984. By George Orwell

As I said I first read 1984 in the 9th grade, however, I remembered very little clearly.  Reading it before Julia helped me put that novel into perspective, however, I do not believe it is necessary for the enjoyment or understanding of Julia.  Both Julia and 1984 shed a lot of light on the information in Wifedom.

This book is a dystopian work that sheds light on how a population is controlled terrifyingly.   Even if you have never heard of the book it is hard to get through a life without references to it, which may be the reason to read it.  Orwellian is often a phrase opponents throw at each other, sometimes with justification.  Reading it is more about understanding your culture and a lot of what is going on today as our media becomes controlled by a few oligarchs and billionaires.   In Orwell’s creation information was controlled and manipulated by the government.  Today’s information is being manipulated by corporations.  Questions for discussion would be

  1. What are the differences between governmental and private money control of information?
  2. And more importantly, what can or must we do about it?

Animal Farm.  By George Orwell

Animal Farm is a parody of the Russian Revolution.  The Tsarist governments had a firm control of Russian society to the detriment of most of the population.  It is difficult for us to conceive that initially there was a lot of hope for the revolution.  We cannot understand this because we all know how it ended with as much or more repression as people suffered under the Tsars.

Animal Farm takes place when the animals revolt against the farmer and as the animals quickly become more and more like the humans we see a parody of what happened in Russia

It is almost as much a part of our culture as 1984, with many references to it that we may not even connect to the novel.  It is also known that Eileen had a very important part in putting this book together and may have written it herself

The point of discussion would be:

  1. Is it possible for human beings to have a more equitable society and keep it that way?
  2. What must we do to make that happen?
Wifedom

Wifedom: Mrs. Orwell’s Invisible Life: by Anna Funder

 

Biography

Eileen O’Shaughnessy, by all accounts, was an attractive, talented, personable woman who married Eric Blair AKA George Orwell, and then disappeared into a world of editing, advising, goat tending, egg collecting, furnace and toilet fixing, etc, etc   Eric Blair, according to all reports had none of Eileen’s attributes, save the talent that wrote 1984 and other masterpieces, and he knew he needed help,  His many biographers said that he knew he needed an editor, a typist, a maid, and handyman but couldn’t pay for any of those.  He knew he must marry them and get it all for free.

“Behind every successful man is an invisible woman” would be Anna Funder’s take on an old message.  When I was a girl it was meant to give females a bone, some acknowledgment of their contributions.  Funder shows us that the cost was invisibility.

Wifedom is a well-researched biography about an interesting woman who might have had the world, even in a time when that was not available to women.  How did it come to be that no one has heard of her?

Anna Funder’s book is laced with short essays about the world of invisible women but also about herself.  She makes it clear that like most literature, biographies can be as much about the author as the subject.  After reading all 7 Orwell biographies, all written by men, all of which collude in Eileen’s invisibility she informs that they erased her by using the passive mode.  Things just ‘happened’ in Orwell’s life with no mention of the women who cared for him, literally did his dirty work and perhaps most importantly opened the doors he needed to be opened, Eileen being just one of many, but the most active.  The 7 biographers hid his misogyny while talking about other flaws.

This book is not a bashing men or even bashing Orwell, screed.  The personal essays are important in this book as Funder illustrates this millennia-old reality while showing that even with the improvements, changing the patriarchal system is so difficult.  She acknowledges that she is a woman of privilege, and makes no bones about it.  She tells us that she and her husband have worked hard to have their marriage be equal in the house and the raising of their three children, but that it just didn’t work out, certainly not her husband’s fault although he benefits.  One poignant vignette was about her only son.  At 9 he watched Christine Blasey Ford testify at Brett Cavanaugh’s Supreme Court nomination hearings.  He looked sad and worried, “How long has this been happening?”  Misunderstanding she stated, “a few weeks”  “No, how long have men been doing this to women?”  She stopped to explain to her wonderful son that he did not have to do this, that his father and most men did not”.   However, she tells us that a lot is standing in the way of equality no matter how hard women and men try.  Orwell didn’t even try.

I was planning on taking my time reading this.  I found Wifedom because I had just read Julia, which is a new take on 1984 with Julia, Winston Smith’s love object, as the protagonist.  I had read 1984 in the 9th grade and felt I should reread it 60 years later before indulging in Julia and then found Wifedom.  The book is structured so that one could read a few pages and then put it down to contemplate or to clean the kitchen.  I planned on doing that.  However, I read all 400 pages in a day and a half and still got the kitchen cleaned.  It is mesmerizing.  It convinced me that while I have read none of the Orwell biographies I learned more about him here than I could have from any of them.  While Funder did not say this, I see that George Orwell himself is the prototype for Winston Smith.

I would recommend for those who want more also read Julia.  I have long been a fan of books telling well-known stories from the viewpoint of other characters.  I first read 1984 in the 9th grade, some 60 years ago. I reread it first and in the process stumbled on Wifedom which explains a lot of what happens the 1984.  Here follows a review of Julia, with reference to 1984, for those who want to learn more about the mind and life that created this iconic novel.  You will also find other renditions of “invisible women” on this blog.  Unfortunately, there are too many of them, however, learning their stories and their courage to overcome is both enlightening and in some way heartening.

This author suggests, with evidence, that Eileen wrote Animal Farm as the format and other important aspects were her ideas and she may have actually written a lot of it.  She certainly edited all of his works as she typed them.   Thus, you might want to add this important novella to your reading list to more deeply understand the dynamics of the relationship between Eileen and Eric Blair AKA George Orwell.

STUDY QUESTIONS

These questions are generally for book clubs, however, can be used for contemplation or talking to a friend.  Spoiler Alert: These questions are designed for people who have read the entire book.  If surprises matter, do not read these now.

1. While working separately,  7 different Orwell biographers managed to keep Eileen invisible by using passive tense (things just seem to have happened to Orwell), and by using the term ‘wife’ while never using her name and other methods she was invisible.

  • These men did not collude to do this.  However, what were the forces that led to this phenomenon?
  •  Carl Jung often spoke of his concept of “Collective Unconscious”. Is there a “Collective Unconscious of Patriarchy”?  If so is it held just by men or by everyone?

2.From the day Eileen met Orwell some friends were concerned without even knowing how it would end.  As you read were you thinking of how you might have helped?  Do you think her friends did as much as they could or could there have been more

3. We learned a little about her pre-Orwell life.  How much of this do you believe was a tragic fatal flaw or was it mostly patriarchal society?  How do these things intersect in her life?

4. Do you think that her friends knew the actual danger she was in at the end and felt helpless or just didn’t think it possible?

If you have other questions you want to ask/discuss please share them here with other readers.  You can do this under responses

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An Open Letter to Coach Bluder and Team

Coach Bluder and Team On March 3, 2024, Iowa Hawkeye, Caitlyn Clark, broke Pistol Pete Maravitch’s NCAA scoring record, meaning she scored higher than any woman or man.  Like the rest of the country I was wrapped up in the excitement of it all, as an Iowa native, I had special pride.  However, it brought back a lot of memories, painful ones and gave me a great deal of vindication.  I wrote this piece in response to the country’s excitement and how my own, and women’s history intertwined with it all.  The picture was taken women the Hawkeye women attracted 55,646 paying fans for an exhibition game with DePaul.  Caitlyn Clark is now doing a commercial for Gatorade where she tells girls, “If I can get 55,000, you can get 56,000”.

  • Note: Iowa and NC State are in the Final Four since I wrote this letter. If Iowa beats UConn and NC State beats undefeated South Carolina, they will meet on Sunday the 7th for the National Title.
AN OPEN LETTER TO COACH BLUDER, CAITLYN CLARK, AND THE IOWA HAWKEYES OF 2023/2024.

Dear Coach Bluder and Team,

It is difficult to explain to you and your team what following the Hawkeyes this year means to me but I will try.  I will start with your triumph in Kinnick Stadium.

I started going there in the early 1950s with Mom, Dad, and my older brother.  I loved it, the history of Nile Kinnick, the cars parked in yards, the marching band, and, oh, yes, the excitement of the cardiac kids, as the team was called in the day.

There was the Iowa Scottish Highlanders Band, a world-renowned drum and bagpipe corps of all women.  In those days, Iowa and Texas were the only states with girls’ inter-school basketball, but even then only in the smaller towns.  Like every other large university, the marching band was not open to women.  Imagine my excitement to see the Highlanders after a world tour cheered by millions, including command performances for the crown heads of Europe just 10 years after WWII.  This was all little girls had in those days.  They only performed one game a year, but I was so excited as they marched onto the field and so confused when the crowd booed.  Yes, booed.  I asked why and my brother responded that people wanted to see the band, not dumb girls.  (The Pipe and Drum band was opened to boys in 1971, the year before Title IX, and was unfunded in 1981)

Highlanders in Kinnick

As I watched 55,646 people cheering your team playing basketball on a football field, that very one where other women were booed as not belonging, it was an added bonus for me. The Highlanders of that day are now in their mid-to late 80s, and many are probably gone, but I imagine their spirits there being validated by the work that your team does and the adulation that you have earned, and it made my heart soar.

My mother played basketball for T.J. in Counsel Bluffs in 1934, the Woman Athlete of the Year, but in the mid-50s, the tide was turning, and Wilton, where we then lived, took away girls’ basketball even though it was very popular.  We were told by Dr. Whetstein,  who was the head of the school board that basketball made it harder for girls to have babies.  My mother and father said it had more to do with having one gym and wanting more practice time for the boys.  The neighboring town of Durant was getting ready to do the same thing, however, my parents owned and ran the newspapers in both towns, my mother wrote a scathing editorial and saved basketball for the girls of Durant due to the outrage Mom’s editorial caused, but it was too late for me, the deed was done in Wilton.  It was too late for me and my friends.  I was in my 60s before I could tell that story out loud without choking with tears.  I cried through A League of Their Own.  I hope you have all seen that movie.

I like to think that women of my generation, who were denied so much have paved the way to your well-earned success, without denying how hard you work for all the accolades and attention you get.

1966-67 I lived in Burge Hall when girls (and we couldn’t be women then) had hours.  This meant that we all had to be in the dorm by 10 on weeknights and 12 on Friday, 1 on Saturday.  We were allowed less time to be in the library because boys had no hours.  We were punished if we came in a minute late. This resulted in something we all joked about and feared.  Imagine the chaos with hundreds of girls being returned after dates at the same time.  It was called the Passion Line.  There were also small groups of boys who went for the purpose of blocking our way into the dorm so that we would get into trouble.  We grumbled about having hours, but what could we do?

 

During one middle-of-the-night fire drill, we spontaneously decided not to return and defied authorities, chanting, “No more hours”. The whole thing lasted only 10 minutes or so, but a small part of what was to happen in the next few years led to Title IX, which I am sure you all know about. Part of me still grieves that we didn’t have the opportunity for sports, but I am so happy for any little thing I did to make things possible for my granddaughter who plays field hockey and is, at 13, being recruited as a possible Olympic skier and for you and your team.

I am so proud of my granddaughter and I want you to know just how much joy you put in the heart of her grandmother, who had your sport ripped away from her in the fifth grade because someone didn’t think it was good for her health, but really wanted more practice time for the boys.

Thank you so much,

Proud to Be an Iowan at Heart,

Margo Arrowsmith

PS. You must know that in the 1950s and 60s, girls’ basketball was two-court. Girls were not allowed to play full court because, unlike you women, they were not considered strong enough to play full court. On my Mother’s Day, they had to play THREE COURTS for the same reason, even though Mom also played volleyball with a two-person team on wooden floors, not sand. Go figure.

 

* Also know that while I have lived in Raleigh, North Carolina for 30 years and have cheered the Wolfpack for many years at Reynolds Colosseum, I note they are just two rankings behind you this year, if you play them in the NCAA tournament, I will be cheering the Hawkeyes at that game.

Portrait,Of,A,Sad,And,Thoughtful,Hispanic,Teenage,Boy,Isolated

Louie and Lourdes:  What This Costs Us All

 “I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops.”

  • Stephen Jay Gould, Evolutionary Biologist

 

I was touched by the responses to this piece from those who expressed concern for Louie and his sister, Lourdes.  I have also been concerned that I was not clear enough about the message, which is that neglected children aren’t just something to be sad about and that it isn’t just about these children.  The story of these two is so compelling that it shadowed the reality that as long as gifted children, as Louie clearly was, are not supported and educated, we suffer as a society.   Louie had a gift that could have been used to solve many of our serious problems today.  However, Louie and his sister were raised by a homeless mother before they entered a system that could not begin to give him the education that he deserved and needed.  Louie lost his future, which should be enough to demand change, but until people fully understand that losing children like him cost us all our future, change is less likely.  As you read this story, please balance the tragedy that belongs to Louie and Lourdes with the tragedy of a society where children’s futures are based on the circumstances of their parents and not the needs of society and the world. 

 

“She’s the one over by the window masturbating under a blanket.”

I was nervous about my new job in a residential treatment center for disturbed children ages 6-12.  While interviewing for the therapist job, I was in the Holly Residential Treatment Center, where I saw kids running around making noise, much like any other place with 50 children of that age.  I had begun my first day a few miles away at the school.  I knocked on the door to ask the teacher for my first patient.

“We are so proud of the progress she is making.”  The teacher’s eyes glistened, and she was sincere.  “It wasn’t long ago that she did it at the table and wouldn’t cover.”

This dramatic and fortuitous beginning to my next four years didn’t make me run.  I took Lourdes off to a private room.  She was hyper in a way some might find charming, but other than that not all that different from many children her age.  She demanded attention and in an individual session, that was not a problem as our time together was about her.

It was her brother, Louie, who grabbed my heart.  No matter where Louie was, even in the middle of the room, he could manage the trick of camouflage. But I could see the intensity, the pain, and the charm that was being fiercely protected. 

The children were unlikely to have the same father, but they could have been identical twins except for the gender. Mom was Puerto Rican, and Dads were thought to be African American. Mom was homeless and did what she could to live. They had light mocha skin, dark blonde hair, loose Afros, and green eyes. They were two of the most beautiful children I have seen.

In a milieu of horrific stories, theirs stood out.  Mom had managed to keep them together, living in cars and abandoned buildings and feeding when they could.  It was unclear if she finally surrendered the children or if they were taken away.  No one thought it would be hard to place them for adoption, even at the ages of 5 and 4.  They began the tragic series of homes that led them to the Holly Center.

A family was found immediately. They wanted to adopt and weren’t interested in dealing with a baby.  One look at Lourdes, and they were sold.  The hitch was that they only wanted her.  When told the siblings would not be separated, they reluctantly took Louie.  They later admitted that they assumed that once Lourdes settled in, they could return Louie, and no one would take her from a happy home.  Two families repeated that pattern before the children were placed in a foster home with older boys.  It was thought that at least they would not be rejected because of Louie. 

It was there that Lourdes began her compulsive masturbation, and both developed severe UTIs. When they went to the bathroom, one or more of the older boys would molest them, which caused them to wait as long as possible. 

Then they came to the Holly Center when Lourdes turned 6, and they were eligible to go together.

Once past their striking looks, the two couldn’t have been more different.  He seemed to will himself to disappear.  He was a chameleon who worked to be anything anyone wanted him to be. 

He didn’t use the toys for our play therapy sessions but did develop two games of his own.  #1 Louie instructed me that I was a monster and that I was coming to hurt his mother.  Louie would play the hero who rescued her from me, the beast.  There was a lot of laughter, but it was clear that he was intensely serious.  He wouldn’t allow me to use the game in the therapeutic manner that I was taught, but he was trying to make himself something he thought he should be but could only do there in that room. 

#2 This was the “Who Am I” Game. It varied a little, but he would demand I ask who he was; I would say he had green eyes, and he would say, “No, I have brown eyes.” This child had invented two means of therapy that hit directly onto his two most significant issues.

Lourdes was not that interesting but could be a challenge.  She appeared to be an entitled and pampered child, although she never was.  DYFS (New Jersey Division of Youth and Family Services) insisted that they not be separated.  I argued that, in this case, they should.  Lourdes needed loving discipline, while Louie needed loving indulgence.  She required clear boundaries, and he needed someone to help him crawl out of his prison.  Some parents can do both, but not with these siblings in the same house. 

I don’t remember why I brought them into my office together, but I will never forget it.  I remember nothing about the session until Louie showed us his gift.   When I started the job, I was given a budget to buy toys for play therapy and help the kids relax with me.  I don’t know what I was thinking when I bought the doll stroller, it wasn’t really useful and it was “to be assembled”.  Once I saw the number of pieces and the number of tools needed, “not included,” I set it aside.  Lourdes nagged me to play with it, but that wouldn’t happen. 

She did the same that day when suddenly Louis went into a frenzy, tearing open the box, parts went flying, me thinking of throwing it away, when he started putting it together with his bare hands, still in a frenzy.  The only way I could have stopped him would be by sitting on him, and I wouldn’t do that. He put it together without directions or tools, put his 40-pound sister in it, and pushed her around the office. 

His shoes also demonstrated Louie’s issues.  We had budgets to clothe the children and did well, but Louie had a pair of sneakers held to his feet by threads.   When I announced I was taking him to the store for new ones, he excitedly described to the laces what he wanted.  He must have seen them in a window, and there they were.  He was so excited. 

The next day, he went to school in the old raggedy shoes. His attachment to those shoes was very personal. They represented what he saw himself to be. We couldn’t just throw them away. I got a shovel and gathered several children and a couple of therapists. We dug a hole, and we had a funeral for the shoes. People read the Bible and said nice things. Louie could then put them to rest and move on, happily wearing his new shoes.

But then the placements started.  DYFS, with the best of intentions, started having adoption parties.  Children were brought to a reception with prospective adoptive parents. If you have ever been to a college mixer or a club and worried about being a wallflower, you can begin to understand what it was like for these children hoping for a home with a Mom and Dad.  The Holly staff argued that the tension was too much for these children, and DYFS insisted the children didn’t know the purpose of the parties.  Of course, they all did. They weren’t stupid.  We continued to argue against the parties, DYFS said there were a lot of matches, we reminded that none had led to successful adoptions, the practice continued.)

Louie’s first was a single woman who had adopted a girl near Louie’s age from Nicaragua.  When Rosa was 5 the Sandinistas raided her village killing everyone that she had known and loved.  The last thing she remembered before passing out was two soldiers arguing.  She had only been hit in the foot.  One insisted they shoot her in the head. The other argued not to waste the bullet, as she would bleed out eventually.  Adoptive Mom felt terrible for Louie and knew he would fit into her family.  But she could not comprehend that Louie was worse off than Rosa.  I tried to explain that the girl had had five years of a loving family, extended family, and neighbors. Yes, it was torn away in unspeakable acts of violence and cruelty none of us could fathom, but she had that foundation that Louie didn’t. 

We insisted that she never mentioned the word adoption during their weekend visits.  She agreed but knew so much more than we did.  So Louie had a new home until he didn’t.  “Mom” brought him back for the last time. 

I didn’t know why, and it’s probably good that I didn’t until later.  However, she still wanted him to visit once a month or so.  I wanted to reach down through the phone and pull her heart out, but I knew that would have been considered unprofessional.  When she explained in all her wisdom that this would be her being good to the boy, I replied, “ Look, what you have done is not the worst thing that has ever happened to him, and unfortunately, probably won’t be the worst that will.  However, you have done something terrible by repeatedly making promises and showing him that he isn’t good enough and people can’t be trusted.  His visiting you will help you feel less guilty about what you have done, and perhaps it will make you a great person in your mind.  However, what you did was bad; it was hurtful, and if I allow him to go there again, every time you send him back, it will reinforce his feelings of not being good enough for anyone.  So no, you deal with your guilt in another way.”

I found out later that when Rosie wanted Louie to play dress up with her in Mom’s clothes, he went along. He would do anything to be liked.  From that, she decided that she couldn’t raise a ‘homosexual’ and he lost his new home.

His teacher, Barbara, and I were excited about the next find.  They were childless, she had a daughter from a previous marriage who the father stole.  The couple had spent all their money and lost their house on investigators trying to locate that girl.    Another situation with a sister, but this one was different enough that we ignored it. This sister was a phantom.  The director pointed out that the Dad looked like an alcoholic, but we ignored that also.  Besides, there was nothing we could do but hope for the best, and this time Louie moved in.  And it went well. Barbara got great reports from the new teacher.  It went great until it didn’t.  Dad did go on a bender that didn’t stop.  I couldn’t get much more information except that the last thing people knew about the then 13-year-old Louie was that he had a 3-month bus pass and was somewhere on a Greyhound.  It was a place to sleep, and he must have done what he had to do to get food and a new bus pass as long as he could. It was the mid-1980s, the AIDS epidemic was starting.

Lourdes did find a permanent home.  I was happy for her that this family knew that she needed to learn discipline. That was good until I learned she was sent to school wearing a sign that said, “I am a liar and I steal”.  Can people understand that discipline does not have to be punitive or cruel?

I know that we can’t all worry about all the Louies or Lordes of the world.  I have gone without thinking about these particular ones for years, even though I kept his picture.  It’s just too much for those of us who also need to lead lives and care for the children we have.  We have to compartmentalize.  I also know some people really don’t care at all.

However, remember that boy who, in a frenzy, tore open a box, causing parts to fly, and put it all together without the required tools or reading instructions?  Maybe everyone can care about what the world lost when he took that ability, and instead of being educated or trained to use it to solve global warming, he spent his life on a Greyhound doing what he had to do to survive.

 “I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain, than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweat shops.”

  • Stephen Jay Gould, Evolutionary Biologist