By David Strom
SAN DIEGO — Sexual abuse probably occurs in most societies as well as in American subcultures. How it is handled within any particular cultural grouping may differ, but in the end there is always a victim and a victimizer.
The general perception among many in and outside of the Church is that the Catholic hierarchy mishandled the cases of priests who abused young boys. It is also believed that the Boy Scouts of America did not do enough to protect the young scouts from abuse by some scout leaders. While their administrators may have kept written records of those accused of abusing young boys, there is suspicion that they were usually kept to themselves and not shared with law enforcement. These publically visible cases of the mishandling of incidents of sexual abuse within institutions suggest that religious communities may also lack mechanisms for bringing offenders to justice and supporting recovery and healing for their victims. |
In the Orthodox Jewish community of Brooklyn in recent years, knowledge of sexual abuse scandals has reached the secular court system and the mainstream media. While the cases coming into the court system are probably the “tip of the iceberg,” the Orthodox rabbinate today urges its followers to talk with their own rabbi first before bringing their concerns to law enforcement Most people, including rabbis, are ill equipped to handle sexual and often outrageous abusive behavior on the part of a congregant and someone they may know well. Thus, little is done to the abuser and the abused may be advised to keep quiet about these incidents.
But change is coming to this walled and very isolated Orthodox enclave. A recent book publication, “HUSH,” will not revolutionize the community but it may alter or modify some of the thinking and actions related to sexual abuse. The novel by Eishes Chayil (also known as Judy Brown) is partly mystery, perhaps partly autobiographical but nonetheless, respectful of a small Chassidish movement in Borough Park, New York.
The main characters in Hush are two childhood friends, Gittel and Devory. (Gittel was my late sister’s name in Yiddish, in English, Gertrude.) They were born on the same day, in the same hospital, went to the same religious schools, and their parents were also best friends. Gittel and Devory (a shortened endearing Yiddish name for Devorah) did everything together. They often slept over each other’s house, played games together, kept secrets, and visited with the woman and her husband that lived upstairs in Gittel’s family home. One of the secrets they shared was a relationship and frequent visits with their friendly non-Jewish woman neighbor.
None of the other girls in Gittel and Devory knew any gentiles. Teachers often taught the girls covertly and, at times, overtly to fear gentiles. Many grandparents were survivors of the Holocaust and they often taught them to mistrust the goyim. Their parents were brought up in the same closed and narrow community of Chasidic Jews that their narrowed thinking could not and did not offer anything other than the official unchallenged and stereotypical view of what goyim are like.
Because of their warm association with Gittel’s gentile neighbors, Gittel and Devory had other thoughts about certain goyim. The neighbor was a liberal Christian who believed all people who followed the Ten Commandments are good people. She offered them advice on school-related issues, shared her love for them when they were disturbed or upset with parts of their world and demonstrated to them her love for pets.
The two girls would often sneak upstairs to visit, even when Gittel’s parents were downstairs and home. They got to watch TV! They could see game shows or whatever else was on during the weekdays. This was not the “biggest deal” in their lives, but it was a big deal. In their particular Chasidic sect, they were not allowed to watch television. They would eat kosher candy that the neighbor provided. They would chat and just have a good time together.
When Gittel and Devory were ten years old, Devory insisted that Gittel sleep over at her house. Both girls came from large families where it was not uncommon for many children to share the same bedroom. Devory shared her bedroom with her fifteen-year-old brother, who was away at a religious yeshiva (school). But now he was home for the holiday.
After listening to her brother give a davar Torah (sermon) on the bible portion of the week, Devory and Gittel went off to sleep. In the bedroom the girls talked, joked, and then fell asleep. Later that night, Gittel sees Devory’s brother come slowly into the bedroom, watches him climb into Devory’s bed. She does not understand why her brother is out of breath going up and down on the very silent Devory. Gittel is so frightened and confused by what she is witnessing that she remains silent. Although Gittel had planned to stay the weekend, she goes home the next morning, dazed and traumatized but unable to make sense of what she had seen happening to her friend Devory.
Devory had always been a challenging child but after that weekend, she became even more taxing and more difficult to deal with at home and at school. The teachers and students at school did not understand the change that was taking place in Devory’s personality and behavior. She and Gittel never spoke to each other about what had occurred that night. The two of them got some psychological and emotional relief when they visited with the friendly gentile neighbor, even though neither of them told her about what had happened.
Ten-year-old Devory is plagued and psychologically tormented by being raped by her own brother. Not feeling that she is able to share this deep secret about the sexual abuse with any adult, Devory hangs herself at Gittel’s home. Devory’s parents question Gittel: Did Devory share with you what was bothering her? Gittel responded that Devory never discussed anything about what was bothering her although she knew since she had been a helpless witness to this act of violence.
Gittel’s parents also questioned Gittel about Devory’s suicide. She couldn’t tell her mother as her mother since, she believed, that even she couldn’t handle the truth about the situation. Eventually, she partially revealed the truth to her father, telling him that Devory had told her that her brother had forced her to have sex with him. She was unable/unwilling and in a state of shock to be able to tell him she witnessed what the brother did. Gittel was ashamed and felt partially guilty for her friend’s death.
Gittel’s father was stunned by what he heard. He consoled her as best he could and told his wife what Gittel had unburdened upon him. Gittel’s mother and father urged her to be silent on this matter. They both hoped that the ugliness and nastiness would eventually go away or be swept under the rug within the small clannish Chasidic community.
Although most of the members of the community are able to deny and forget, Gittel could not. Devory’s shamed family moved to Israel. For several years, Gittel is plagued by Devory’s nightly appearances in her bedroom window. Yes, she knows Devory is dead. Yet, she writes her letters that are never posted, telling her about the happenings in school and the community. Ultimately she informs her of the girls with whom they went to school with who were now getting married and in due course, having babies.
After professional counseling and still bothered by nightly visits by Devory, Gittel is so troubled by the thought of her silence being the cause of her friend’s suicide that she seeks help from the police. Gittel tells the warm friendly and understanding woman detective what happened to make her friend commit suicide. The detective writes down her testimony and hands the document for Gittel to sign. She signs it and then rips it up. The sympathetic detective tells Gittel that what had happened to Devory was the crime of rape.
Tearing up witnesses’ statements or recanting them later on occurs frequently among parents of victimized Chasidic children within this small religious community who come forward to report such incidents. The rabbis and other “spokesmen” urge family members to keep knowledge of sexual abuse within the community. They are told not to seek governmental or police help. Thus, it is always hushed up. No one wants to speak up, as it will not look good for the family and the community. The religious community’s newspaper never deals with sexual abuse within their society. The illusion is that if no one talks or writes about it, it obviously doesn’t occur. Not in our little religious enclave. But, it does happen. So, everyone keeps it hush, hush.
Gittel couldn’t and instead, suffers from the insidious hidden effects of the trauma of her friend’s rape and suicide. After graduating high school she marries a Chasidic Israeli but she is plagued by sexual problems in her marriage. She discusses with her husband about Devory and what she witnessed. Her husband is, after all, only twenty and has no experience with the wider world of sexual deviance. Shocked by what Gittel told him, he heads to shul and to his rabbi.
The rabbi gently informs the young student rabbi that sadly this sort of behavior has occurred before in their small community of Jews. Also, he gives him advice-a part of which is to hush it up.
Gittel can’t and won’t. She is able to get the editor of the religious community newspaper to print an article about sexual deviance within the Jewish world. The editor also knows many such cases; in fact, he is related to the late Devory. Shamed by her assertions of going public, he feels compelled to act. This action could cause the editor and owner of the paper to lose most of their readership and advertising. However, he courageously publishes an article about the impact of sexual deviance and abuse within their small Chasidic community.
Eventually, Gittel becomes pregnant and tells her family. They were overjoyed, initially. When Gittel tells them she is going to name the baby after Devory. They try to convince her to change her mind. She won’t.
Judy Brown (Eishes Chayil) recently wrote in the September 12th issue of the Forward newspaper; “I’d anonymously published “Hush,” my book about a sex abuse cover-up in Boro Park, the ultra-orthodox neighborhood where I grew up. After Judy Brown came out as the author she received death threats and hate mail from former schoolmates and community members. In one email a woman wrote: “She had not read the book, but knew what it was about. The title was enough. How could I have done such a thing? I had slandered yiden, yiden who were kind and good. Sexual abuse was something that only happened to people with issues—people with a lack of moral guidance, who had secular magazines in their homes.”
Judy Brown chose to leave this small Chasidic enclave. It was a great loss to her. “It’s a loss I chose…” Or I would never have written the book.”
The author of “Hush,” Eishes Chayil, writes clearly and lovingly about her world. The reader ends up with a positive attitude on some aspects of her former world, but realizes that Eishes Chayil must leave in order to have a more balanced view of Jewish life. She hopes to accomplish this by bringing their dark secrets into the light.
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Strom is professor emeritus of education at San Diego State University. He may be contacted at david.strom@sdjewishworld.com