I Hadn't Thought About That

I’ve been reminiscing about the childhood rhyme today: Ricky and Lucy, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.  First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage.  If memory serves me correctly, this song was belted out when a “tween” couple was discovered holding hands on the school bus.  Its message was one of expectation and order, as that first touch could lead to a first kiss, and the first kiss to love, marriage, and baby, hopefully in that order.  

Marriage, family, love, commitment, relationships – they’ve been on my mind a lot over the past few weeks.   I’ve attended weddings and celebrated new babies, caught up in the joy of hope-filled beginnings and the fragrant scent of baby powder.  But the price paid when love goes sour has caught my attention over and over again as well, in the novels I read on the beach, in the lives of people I care for deeply, and in the murders of two Ashland woman as a result of domestic violence. 

We must ask ourselves:  are these recent deaths (as tragic as they are to the families involved) only a statistical blip, or do they point to a need for intervention within our community?  Can we do anything to make our marriages and homes safer, to provide people with tools to work things out before they get ugly and dangerous?

My “gotta do something” spirit suggests that there is much that can be done to raise awareness and to provide people with the means to improve their marriages, and to help those who can no longer stay together  separate with a semblance of respect and safety.  But before we run out and create the next “Save Our Marriages” non-profit agency, we may benefit from some directed conversation on the subjects of marriage, divorce, abuse and domestic violence. 

These conversations have been happening in counseling offices, in coffeeshops, and in the aisles of Walmart as we wonder how to strengthen marriages and to protect those in difficult relationships.  That conversation will continue at the Kroc Center on Thursday evening, August 23 (7 p.m.), as the Ashland Women’s Counseling Center and the Salvation Army host Barbara Roberts, an Australian who’s written extensively on marriage, divorce and abuse, particularly from a biblical basis. Complemented by her delightful Aussie accent, her presentation and discussion will help us dig deeper in our on-going conversations on these essential topics.    

While I’m hoping our continuing dialogue will remind us of what we believe about love and marriage, I recognize that it’s not a new conversation.  As a community, we celebrate the longevity of marriages as noted on the pages of the Times-Gazette, and hopefully will be reminded to whisper a prayer of thanks for their faithfulness.  As another example, the pastors of the Ashland County Ministerial Association have an on-going commitment to prepare couples for marriage in a comprehensive way.  That can help.     

But here’s the challenge.  One of the themes we hear is that some people want to make their marriage work but they just don’t know what to do.  When visiting my mother recently, we watched an episode of I Love Lucy, one of the funniest series in the history of television.  Ricky and Fred were in trouble with their wives (a typical plot of the show), and Fred asked Ricky what he was going to do.  Ricky replied, “I’m going to tell her the truth.”  Fred’s answer was classic :  “I hadn’t thought about that.”   

Perhaps one small part of the response to our community’s heartbreak is to offer tools to people who want to make their relationships work but who, like Fred, simply haven’t thought about how to do that.  The tools are here – well-trained counselors, the resources of Ashland Theological Seminary, the wisdom of our elders, the focus of the Center for Non-Violence, the availability of the Rape Crisis/Safe Haven Domestic Violence Shelter, the mediation and circle training through T.A.L.K., the compassion of more than 100 churches in the county – the key is to connect the resources with those who so desperately need them.  That, my brothers and sisters, is the challenge we face – before it’s too late for another Ashland area family.  

Purple Ribblons

This shouldn’t be happening in Ashland.  Maybe in the big cities, or in some place far away from our home in Ashland County.  That’s where crime happens, that’s where television reporters gather, that’s where a missing woman makes the news – not Ashland, Ohio.  We shouldn’t have purple ribbons on our trees, the purple ribbons that signify domestic violence and the desire to bring a missing woman home to the arms of her family and our community.  But I can see one of the purple ribbons from my kitchen window.  This shouldn’t be happening in Ashland, but it is.

What we know about domestic violence is that it isn’t limited to any locale or to any specific kind of person.  It happens in small towns and big cities, in poor neighborhoods and in rich enclaves, in religious homes and in the homes of those with no claim of faith.  The lesson of the ages is that violence occurs over and over again, all too often between those who claim to love each other, and that people of both genders can be victims and perpetrators (although statistically women are more often the victims of physical violence).      

Domestic violence tends to be a pattern of behavior in a relationship that is used to gain or maintain power or control over an intimate partner (National Domestic Violence Hotline).  Unlike being accosted by a stranger at a random time or place, those whose lives are stained by domestic violence often live with an escalating pattern of words, emotions and actions that put the victim (and her/his children) in increasing danger.

So why doesn’t the victim get out?  Why would anyone stay in a relationship of any kind with an abuser?  If it were only that simple.  Beyond the financial barriers, the concerns for children, and the shame involved in having to admit to failure in a relationship, it may be just as dangerous (or even more dangerous) for a partner to leave.  In a study in 2000, Lees found that women are at the greatest risk of homicide at the point of separation or after leaving a violent partner.         

Because I’ve spent more than 30 years in the social service field, it’s easy to assume that I’ve seen more of this than most, and that’s probably true.  But it’s not the client stories that come to mind, as horrendous as they’ve been.  What I remember most is the neighbor on our street in Dover, New Jersey who was killed by the man who had promised to honor her and cherish her.  I remember the daughter of our maintenance supervisor in Cleveland who was pushed down the stairs by her boyfriend.   I remember our secretary’s sorrow over her daughter’s murder due to domestic violence.  I remember sitting in a courtroom with my friend, a clergywoman, as her marriage was officially ended by a judge because of violence in the home.  My co-workers, my neighbors, my friends. 

People hurt each other, people we went to high school with, people who sit next to us in church.   Men hurt women they love and women hurt men they love.  Idealist that I am, I wish I could wave a magic wand and eliminate violence and the threat of violence from our community and our world.  But there is no magic wand to wave, no crystal ball to predict with certainty which couples will struggle with violence.  And some will, even here in Ashland.

                “Bring Lynn Home.”  The purple ribbons that are wrapped around our community speak their message clearly, as do the t-shirts, bracelets and the thousands of “likes” and posts on Facebook.  But the ribbons speak a louder message for all of the Lynn’s, for all of the Rachel’s (Ashland native Rachel Kiser was shot and killed in April), for all of the grieving families and for all of the orphaned children: let us as a community do all we can so that all of our homes are safe.  As Maya Angelou reminds us, “The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are . . .”   Might it be so.