justice

Saving Everyone’s Baby

/ Elizabeth Gaucher / 55 Comments

Tiny Caylee Anthony is dead, most likely murdered at the tender age of two years.  It appears no one will be convicted of killing her, and yesterday the nation erupted in a self-righteous outrage I haven’t seen since Orenthal J. Simpson was acquitted of killing his wife Nicole.

I’ve come a long way in my thinking about these kinds of cases, about what “justice” has a prayer of meaning, and what the relationship is and is not between what is right and what is legal.  The jury verdict in the case against Caylee’s mother Casey stirred again my own questions about whether or not such a verdict demonstrates the greatness or the abject failures of criminal trial in the United States of America.

But rather than subject readers to what I think about our legal system, I want to issue a challenge to you regarding what I think about justice.

Justice for this child was lost when she died.  No one being convicted of her murder could possibly generate any outcome that would change the terrible, unthinkable death she suffered.  We seem to need to believe that it could, but it cannot.  Caylee is dead, her brief life taken from her in what appears to be a premeditated act of violence capping tremendous resentment by her mother of the attention and care she — as do all children her age — required.

I have strong beliefs about the conditions that should exist before children are brought into this world, and if by some misfortune those conditions are not in place when the child is conceived then we as a society need to step up our game around our commitment to creating the best possible conditions in a bad situation.  I hear too much talk about what parents deserve or don’t deserve, and frankly I don’t give a damn.

When an at-risk child joins the human family, that is everyone’s baby.

That belief is why I am writing this post today.  If we carry on one more day about how outraged and angry we are about the jury verdict, about all the vengeful thoughts we have against Casey Anthony, about how God is going to bring down justice on the killer and on and on and on…………we are part of why this child is gone and we lose one more day to save children like her.  And if you do not know, you need to research and know and understand one thing:  There are thousands of Caylees in this country right now.

Thousands.

We need to turn off Nancy Grace (and the rest of those who profiteer on moral outrage and grief) and turn on our consciences.

What will you do today to honor the life of Caylee Anthony and of every child?

My challenge to all of us who are pained by the loss of this child is to think about what role we each play in making this world a safer, better place for children.

  • Do you speak out when someone makes a joke about hurting a child, or do you stay silent so as not to offend?
  • When you see a parent at the end of his or her rope, do you moralize about what a bad parent he or she is, or do you offer a kind word of support for what they are going through?
  • When you have an extra $15.00, do you buy a bottle of wine, or do you put it aside and make an end-of-year donation of $300 to your local child abuse prevention organization?
  • Are you giving your free time to something truly important to you, like helping a church gather toys or clothing for families in need, or do you do something just for yourself?
  • Do you think sexually active young people should have access to contraception and are you willing to speak out for that, or in your heart do you think they “get what they deserve” if they “get/get someone pregnant”?

Sadly, children often bear the burden of “getting” what their parents deserve.  I’m thinking today about how to turn that around, and to care less about things I can’t control and do more about the things I may be able to influence.

My answers to the above questions, if I am fully honest, do not make me proud.  For the sake of Caylee and every other child on the verge of her fate, I’m thinking today about how to change my answers.

I hope you will join me.

Evil, Meet Science

/ Elizabeth Gaucher / 4 Comments

The concept of evil is so ancient, vast, and complex that even though I think about it often I hesitate to write about it.  A story on NPR yesterday made me change my mind.

Consider this (emphasis added is mine):

Inspired by the structure of Dante’s circles of hell, Michael Stone has created his own 22-point “Gradations of Evil” scale, made up of murderers in the 20th century. “I thought it would be an interesting thing to do,” he says.

Dante's 9 Circles of Hell

His scale is loosely divided into three tiers. First are impulsive evil-doers: driven to a single act of murder in a moment of rage or jealousy. Next are people who lack extreme psychopathic features, but may be psychotic — that is, clinically delusional or out of touch with reality. Last are the profoundly psychopathic, or “those who possess superficial charm, glib speech, grandiosity, but most importantly cunning and manipulativeness,” Stone says. “They have no remorse for what they’ve done to other people.”

Stone hopes the scale could someday be used in prosecutions. “The people at the very end of the scale have certain things about their childhood backgrounds that are different,” he says, from those who appear earlier in the scale.

That a modern-day psychology/medical professional would use Dante to consider how to interpret and respond to criminal activity fascinates me.  I have a foundation of respect for things that are ancient and complex, and genuinely believe that no matter how “evolved” we become as a species we may never be able to get any closer to the Truth of some things than we did hundreds of years ago.  In fact, I often think we lose knowledge by insisting that something explained by older civilizations must need polish and improvement.  If it’s old-school, primitive hindbrain stuff, maybe not.  Avarice, gluttony, wrath, betrayal, etc. seem resistant to “evolving” out of human nature.

But how we interpret and label our condition is important.  How we position the concept of “evil” in the world is crucial to how we respond to it.  My life changed the day I internalized the concept, “We are not punished for sin, but by sin.”  Naturally the human justice system can only focus on punishment for, but the larger idea of why we suffer is directed by the idea that following certain inclinations rather than resisting them inevitably will lead to a bad situation.  It’s as guaranteed as basic addition.

When we label people themselves as evil, we are taking the easy way out.  If anything, Michael Stone’s analysis of the 22 murderous types indicates that the more abuse and trauma an individual as suffered, especially early in life, the more prone they are to a psychotic break that disconnects them from a capacity to participate in anything but increasingly violent and disturbing behavior.  There is clearly a stress point for the mind, and the scale suggests that it’s the passing of that point that creates an inability to ever go back.

Which brings us full circle (pardon the pun) to Dante.  

Reading Stone’s profiles of murderous behavior and its origins supports Dante’s story.  What we call “evil” is a concentric, spiralling energy that with each pass pulls one deeper into a level more difficult to escape.  Properly managed, this connection of old and new thoughts on the influence of evil on our lives has the potential to reinvigorate public interest in prevention of and intervention in abusive environments, especially for the very young.

It also reminds me that, past a certain point, there are still limits on what people can fix.  That doesn’t mean it can never be repaired.  See Dante.