Second Harvest Column - 04/05/07

By Lois Rockhill

I was up early on Sunday still thinking about two startling things that happened on Saturday. The first was a phone call from a friend to tell me that a black bear had been spotted in the woods of the old Vulcan property in Anderson. A credible friend of his saw the bear while hiking. He estimated it to be a young bear weighing around 200 pounds.

Now that woods is joined to my back yard by another strip of woods running along White River. We have seen deer, fox, beaver, woodchuck, squirrel, rabbit, birds but never a bear. Nor do I ever want to. I remembered the black bear I watched from the back door of a cabin in Canada. It was small too, but it ripped through the bottom of a metal garbage can like it was tin foil. East Central Indiana, in woods edging heavily residential properties, is no place for a hungry bear with lethal capabilities.

The second startling thing happened while I was doing some Saturday work at the office. My heart still beats hard when I think about it. There was a Judo class going on down the hall with the normal bumps, grunts and groans when I was distracted by a child’s screams and a man yelling and cussing. At first I thought it was a simulation for the class but then realized it was not.

I ran out into the hall, pushed open the bathroom door and began yelling ‘Stop it!” until I could distract the man from his rage. He was holding the boy by the edges of his Judo jacket, and was in his face screaming a tirade of commands and expletives. It was a volatile situation and I was relieved but guarded when the man cooled off and let the boy go.

There is, of course, more to both stories. But for the purpose of this column I want to relate them to community and to our responsibilities as community members. And how difficult it sometimes is to determine how far that responsibility goes and just how much is required of us.

What do you do if you hear there is a black bear in the neighborhood? We who love nature want to protect the bear, to be sure it is not hunted down to be tormented or tortured. But as community members who know that children hike and ride their bikes in those woods, we can’t not take action when danger looms.

What do you do when you see a child abused? Is immediate intervention enough or is more required? How should a community respond to protect the child and support the adult who must learn appropriate behavior? The bear is a rare occurrence. Unfortunately, abuse of our community’s children is not.

While the black bear conjured up memories of a trip to Canada, the man and the child brought back memories of my own father and his heavy-handedness with the older of my two brothers. That was more than fifty years ago. I can still see my father’s face, my brother’s fear and feel the terror of an adult out of control and a child helpless in his grip. Fifty years ago. You would think as a community we would have learned a thing or two since then."

There is, of course, more to both stories. But for the purpose of this column I want to relate them to community and to our responsibilities as community members. And how difficult it sometimes is to determine how far that responsibility goes and just how much is required of us.

What do you do if you hear there is a black bear in the neighborhood? We who love nature want to protect the bear, to be sure it is not hunted down to be tormented or tortured. But as community members who know that children hike and ride their bikes in those woods, we can’t not take action when danger looms.

What do you do when you see a child abused? Is immediate intervention enough or is more required? How should a community respond to protect the child and support the adult who must learn appropriate behavior? The bear is a rare occurrence. Unfortunately, abuse of our community’s children is not.

While the black bear conjured up memories of a trip to Canada, the man and the child brought back memories of my own father and his heavy-handedness with the older of my two brothers. That was more than fifty years ago. I can still see my father’s face, my brother’s fear and feel the terror of an adult out of control and a child helpless in his grip. Fifty years ago. You would think as a community we would have learned a thing or two since then.

And we have. Some of us. Hopefully most of us. But I wonder. Are we still trying to knock some sense into our kids? Beat them to within an inch of their lives? Break their spirit? Teach them a thing or two? We have all seen children belittled and degraded by parents in public. What happens at home when no one is looking?

There are thin lines between community concern and freedom of choice. We debate it all the time. Should we be free to carry guns, is it alright to smoke in public places, should we be forced to wear seat belts? Should we support laws and legislation to provide basic needs to residents, should we do the things necessary to ensure that all people in our community are free from hunger? Some of us work non-stop on these issues.

But what about verbal abuse by parent of child? I don’t think   we’ve figured that one out as a community. No bruises, no blood. Not on the outside. Should we let it pass? Is intervening in public enough? What is our responsibility? A bear in the woods seems to be the lesser of the challenges, doesn’t it?

To report abuse, call the National Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-4-A-CHILD. For more information about verbal abuse go to http://www.ahealthyme.com

Lois Rockhill is Executive Director of Second Harvest Food Bank of East Central Indiana

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