It was in May of 2006 that about 20 survivors of sexual molestation met in a side room of the Ohel Yaakov synagogue on Glen Avenue.
Almost all in attendance were Orthodox. The gender ratio was equally divided. Three community leaders were there to share, witness and support. They included Rabbi Peretz Dinovitz, Rabbi Shmuel Silber and Mrs. Zipora Schorr.
The event was organized by one of the survivors who shared his story that day. One by one the survivors would say what they could say. Some told their stories publicly for the first time. For others, their molestation story is the root of their recovery story, one that was shared many times in various 12-step programs.
For some it was daunting to see friends and neighbors there that we never knew shared this common bond.
There was one door leading in and out of the unseasonably hot May day. We all eyed that door, especially when it was closed and the air became stagnant.
But stayed we all did until every last story was told.
When it was over, I picked up my wife and went on a long, long drive, sometimes getting coherent sentences out in between sobs.
This, I think, was among the first meetings of this type. We weren’t sure who we would see there. And we weren’t sure really what difference our words would make.
So here we are on the eve of a New Year.
Last Sunday, the Baltimore Board of Rabbis teamed up with Associated agencies such as JCS, CHANA and Shofar, and offered trauma survivors an opportunity to hear one another speak their pain. They offered an environment of safety, of spirituality and most of all of validity. There were well over 200 people in the room. There were 15-20 rabbis and community leaders. Associated President Marc Terrill was there. Some in attendance I’m sure were survivors who I hope felt empowered by the experience.
For many, last Sunday might have been their Rosh Hashanah enlightenment.
What it said to me was that there really is movement, there is really commitment.
I could dwell on the rabbis and community leaders who weren’t there, but the point is there was enough of a critical mass transcending the denominations, that the word has already gotten out.
We don’t have to go back to private rooms with closed doors if we choose not to.
We don’t have to be embarrassed to seek help anymore.
And after years of wandering around with the issue of sexual molestation, I think survivors are feeling less like social outcasts, and feeling more welcome.
The reason for that change is has many layers.
But when I think about that meeting in 2006, which had a feel of secrecy to it, and then I looked out at a crowded, respectful JCC audience this past Sunday, I knew that we’ve all come a long way. A good way.