I came across this photo while looking for another file. It’s one of the old family slides that my sister, Amy, picked out to have scanned to share. My sister, Ann, brother John and I are standing on the foundation our new home in Webster so I know I would have been nine years old.
What struck me about the photo is the t-shirt I am wearing. It’s from Camp Stella Maris, the Diocese of Rochester’s summer camp on Conesius Lake, the camp where my cousin was sexually abused by Rev. Albert H. Cason, then a counselor. We were so young and innocent.
And we never imagined that if we told someone about the abuse, like the bishop himself, he would cover it up and let the guy go on to abuse others.
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I know what that’s like. Looking at a gorgeous family pic from childhood and reckoning on how much sexual abuse was going on at the time. I am all for punishing these sordid clergy, but how to we do justice to those scarred by their own siblings and parents? Life has got to change. Let it start with me, as they say. My family name pains me so much I have tried to lose it xL
To clarify — I should say most of my family… not all 😉