We all hope that we will do the right thing when the time comes for us to stand up to a bully or report abuse or take action against injustice or tell someone what we know.
We all have regrets about those times when we wish we could have a do-over. We wish we had been braver, spoken up, gotten involved, said what we knew about abuse or misconduct in our churches and communities . . . but we didn’t.
One thing is almost certain: we will have more opportunities to do the right thing in the future and we can start preparing now. And in case you’re wondering, my list of regrets is long and I’m writing this to myself.
Here are some of the reasons that you (and I) did the wrong thing:
Your nervous system took over.
When something is threatening, our nervous systems activate with the sole purpose of keeping us safe. The instinct for self-preservation leads to the fight/flight/freeze responses. It’s possible that we will react immediately and decisively. But it’s more likely that if we don’t know what to do, we will either run away or freeze up. By the time the threat passes, it may feel too late to respond.
You didn’t know the law.
You may have done the wrong thing because you didn’t know what the right thing was. In most states, every adult is now a mandatory reporter for child/teen abuse and elder/disability abuse. However, the requirements differ from state to state and so does the reporting process. Right now do a quick search: in your state, who is required to report what by when and how?
You thought someone else would do something.
Maybe the misconduct was an open secret; maybe it wasn’t even a secret at all. Maybe the emotional abuse took place out in the open where everyone saw it.
When multiple people know about something, the responsibility to act becomes diffused among the group so that it’s likely that no one will act at all.
You didn’t want to be wrong.
You had a piece of the story but you didn’t have the whole story. Or you observed something but you didn’t know what it meant. Maybe you spent sleepless nights worrying, “What if I’m overreacting? What if I hurt people for no reason?” It won’t be until later, when the truth starts coming out, that you realize that you knew more than you thought you did or that what you knew was an important part of the whole.
You had promised confidentiality.
Maybe someone started a conversation by saying, “I need to tell you something but I need you to keep it confidential.” Maybe you were in a ministry context where confidentiality is implied.
Confidentiality is never a reason not to report child/elder abuse; there are no exceptions for privacy.
But in other situations, things can become complicated. You may not want to reveal your source. You may not want to get someone in trouble or be perceived as disloyal.
You trusted authority figures who wanted to keep things quiet.
When we don’t know what to do, we may default to authority. And when the authority figures want things hidden, it is normal to go along. This can look like:
· You need to trust us to deal with this behind the scenes.
· Our congregation or organization is doing so much good (or God is really working here) – why would you want to be the one who brings that crashing down?
· We’re not protecting the abuser but we’re protecting their family.
· You didn’t really see what you saw; you don’t know what you know.
There are times when the authority figures in an organization are working hard to address hard realities and need a little time to make and communicate their decisions or when they can’t disclose everything they know but this should be a temporary situation, not a permanent one.
The perpetrator repented and seemed genuinely sorry.
You saw tears and promises of change. You thought that maybe things were moving too fast to return to normal but the remorse looked real. All of us are forgiven sinners; why would you begrudge that forgiveness to someone who seems to be repentant?
Maybe you forgot the difference between forgiveness and accountability; maybe the distinction between remorse and real change got blurry. Maybe everyone else was moving on and so you did too.
None of us can go back and change the past. If that were possible, I would do it in a heartbeat. I might do it shakily or uncertainly, but I would do the right thing. Understanding why I didn’t helps me to regret-proof the future.
