My Professor Doesn't Know His Examples Are My Trauma
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My Professor Doesn't Know His Examples Are My Trauma

His in-class examples are depictions on my own lived trauma.

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My Professor Doesn't Know His Examples Are My Trauma
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Lately, in my ethics class, a concept we've been discussing is that society tends to protect minors. My professor often supports this idea by saying that this even applies in situations such as jails and prisons. For instance, he says that if a pedophile sexually abuses a minor, he or she becomes the target of abuse behind bars.

What my professor doesn't know is that each class I catch myself biting my tongue because I have been directly impacted by a situation of this nature.

As the lecture goes on my mind transports me back to April 11th of 2012. I was 16 years old and laying down on my couch when the sound of a dog trotting through the grass followed by a pounding knock that scared me out of my sleep.

My mother's boyfriend staggered to the front door. When he opened the door he was questioned by an unfamiliar voice as lights shined brightly into the darkness that flooded my living room. In a matter of seconds, law enforcement entered my home and over the course of their visit, my life changed forever.

I spent my morning making small talk with police officers and detectives as I waited for my mom to arrive at home. When she finally returned the conversations became heavy. As we sat around the kitchen table I was shown photographs of my mother's boyfriend, touching me in ways I'd never let anyone touch me before. Each picture had one thing in common, I looked completely lifeless.

I had given a hair sample to be tested for traces of any drugs that may have been in my system over the years, in hopes of finding something that would have been responsible for extremely deep sleeping or memory loss. However, I never saw the results.

The truth is, I have no recollection of the things that happened to me and I guess that's probably a blessing.

Even though I don't remember it, the situation still effects me even to do this day. When my professor says that inmates aren't privy to child molesters it takes all of my energy not raise my hand.

The truth is many offenders get put into diagnostic and treatment centers and my abuser is no exception. These centers are home to violent and repeat sexual offenders throughout their sentence.

To me, it seems as though these individuals are actually the ones being protected, they're separated from inmates who have committed crimes that are not of a like nature. While many may think these offenders are struggling to stay alive while in the system, they are receiving "help" and the opportunity to obtain an education or vocational training.

Basically, as I am buried in loans at my desk while being haunted by thoughts of a traumatic life event, the man responsible is in a safe place where he can receive a free education. As I am struggling with anxiety, the man responsible it receiving "help."

So when my professor says we as a society take the initiative to protect the children, I can't help but think about the children who don't even know they need protecting.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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