The doctor ruthlessly shouted at the whole ward: “Do you understand that this is a cross for life?! Child-Freak!". But the labor began... Delicate topic. "my baby is a freak"
daughter Eva, 13 years old, autism spectrum disorder (ASD)
The Internet continues to discuss happening, which happened to the sister of Natalia Vodianova Oksana. A similar situation happened to us three years ago. My daughter went to a special school for children with autism spectrum disorder. The social pedagogue organized an excursion to the Rio Oceanarium on Dmitrovka. She agreed in advance with the administration, agreed on the dates. In one of the final conversations with the oceanarium, the teacher mentioned that children with special needs are autistic. The management reacted very sharply - such children will scare away visitors. Having heard some arguments of the teacher, the school was offered another option - children can be brought, but only on a sanitary day, when there will be no one else in the aquarium. Having learned that the trip to the fish, which the children have been waiting for so long, is canceled, I decided to convey this information to the general public.
The news was covered in the media, the management of the oceanarium tried to justify itself. They allegedly thought only about children: if there are fewer people, they will feel more comfortable. Then, of course, the oceanarium was forced to apologize to the director of the school and offered a free tour on any convenient day, but we already refused. By that time, other museums and organizations had taken notice of the children and were sending out invitations themselves. Then there was a lot of talk about this situation. But history has been forgotten.
I would not be surprised if now this round of discussions about the history of Oksana Vodianova subsides and something similar happens again in another city. These situations happen all the time, but there aren't enough resources or publicity to get the message out to the people. Many parents are willing to put up with this attitude. Once again, they simply do not go with the child to a public place, so as not to aggravate the situation.
When you raise an autistic child, you face misunderstandings every day. At one time, the district psychiatrist, in the presence of her daughter and looking into my eyes, asked if I wanted to refuse this? I did not understand and asked again what I, sorry, should refuse. “From a child, live your life. You are paid a penny for a child, and if you give it away, the state will transfer twice as much to it and you will not have to spend money.
There were problems with public transport. Children have their own characteristics - they can mumble under their breath, sway from side to side, dangle their legs. It would seem that no one bothers. But everyone strives to make a remark that you are raising a child poorly. Immediately you begin to make excuses, to explain the situation. In isolated cases, you will hear apologies in response, more often - advice that it is better to carry such children separately, by car.
My girl is without physical abnormalities and brain damage. Eva is drawn to society, loves public events, going to the cinema and theater. We softened her behavior, and now she behaves more adequately than many children without developmental disabilities.
The only thing that has been achieved from our ministries is the recognition of the problem: there are people with autism - and they need to be dealt with. Now the second step is needed - to start interacting with such people. It makes no sense to threaten the law on the inadmissibility of discrimination against persons with disabilities. It would be better to provide support so that autistic people can develop and learn to live independently, then people will change their attitude. We need a carrot, not a stick.
daughter Nika, 8 years old, Down syndrome
We live without the right to make mistakes. If an ordinary child begins to act up, they will say about him: there is no mood. And if a special child begins to behave like this, they immediately say: “Well, down, what to take from him. Sick child". You have to keep yourself in good shape: calculate steps, anticipate situations and think about what could go wrong.
When a child with Down syndrome is born, it can be compared to a serious accident. We need to learn to live again. At first, it’s embarrassing and painful, but after a few years, you don’t care about sidelong glances. When Nika went to a kindergarten for children with visual impairments, the teachers at first were wildly horrified and tore their hair out. They shouted that they would not stand it and did not know what to do with my child. It turned out that the problems were funny. For example, all the children take away the plate after eating, but Nika could not do it. For eight years, the atmosphere in society has improved. Children at least began to be taken from the hospital. Previously, there were 98% abandonment of children with Down syndrome, now it is half as much.
Society knows nothing about children with developmental disabilities, some still suspect that it is transmitted by airborne droplets, and the parents of such children are drug addicts, alcoholics and sinners. These are prejudices and fears, which then result in an inadequate attitude.
A friend complained that they were staring at her and her son in the subway. It turns out that a nice eight-year-old boy, well dressed, licked the handrail with pleasure. Why be surprised that everyone is staring?
I did not know about the adoption of the law on the prohibition of discrimination against persons with disabilities. This will not affect us in any way, and life will not improve from this. It's not about laws, it's about public consciousness. As long as the sight of a disabled child causes dislike or surprise, the problem will remain.
son Timur, 10 years old, atypical autism
The son did not speak until the age of four. Everyone considered him impolite when he silently went somewhere. Immediately reproaches: “Why are you not a polite boy and do not say hello? Aren `t you ashamed!" I am "in the know" of autism and know little tricks that help a child overcome difficulties. In the subway, we ride in headphones that save the child from the noise and abundance of adults.
Timur is well adapted to his age. He goes to a school that deals with autistic people. It happened that passers-by spoke out on how to raise a child. Not all people are able to understand that these are not the fruits of bad upbringing, but that the child's brain works differently. I reacted to such statements in different ways. When they start screaming, I want to do the same. I'm a mom and it's hard to contain my emotions. I am terribly offended and hurt for the child. After all, he hears and understands everything.
One in 68 babies born has autism spectrum disorder. This figure increases by 10-17% annually. The reasons are unknown, it cannot be avoided. We must adapt the environment and society to such children as much as possible. In paid development centers - queues. The child does not start going to classes on time, and his development stops. We need a network of extensive rehabilitation centers that would be engaged in diagnostics and provide early assistance to children. Development centers for autistics teach correct behavior. Classes are held in small groups, then they begin to be taken to some events - to theaters, museums, to concerts. This is useful training for real situations. I do not think that if a child was offended in some place, then you must definitely go there again and prove something. If they do not want to accept it, then it is difficult to change it.
I have not heard about the law on discrimination against disabled people, although we constantly gather round tables and discuss the rights of disabled children. In order for the law to be executed, signatures on paper are not enough. I doubt that anything will change.
daughter Vasilisa, 7 months, Down syndrome
I have two boys, and this year my long-awaited daughter, Vasilisa, was born.
We came to the hospital to get registered. The doctor said that she would not take us: “Bring up freaks yourself, I will not take responsibility, there are enough of my own problems.” We went to the head physician, but they shrugged their shoulders - this is the decision of the local doctor. Didn't try to go any higher. With three children it is difficult, not before. We go to a paid clinic, where they treat us very well and even give discounts, so long as we are regularly observed.
I'm still trying to come to terms with the idea that we have a baby with Down syndrome. At first she cried, she was afraid to tell her family that her daughter was sick. All fears are in vain, Vasilisa is very much loved. I don’t hide my daughter; in young children, the difference in development is not so noticeable. They say that problems start later. Now I deliberately tell everyone that I have a special child. Everyone immediately asks if I knew about Down syndrome during pregnancy. Yes, I knew about it and still left the child!
daughter Ksyusha, 16 years old, cerebral palsy (CP) and congenital anomaly in the development of the spine
They say that in other countries there is no discrimination. It is not true. Rude attitude can be found everywhere. We recently went to a language camp in Malta. Already on the spot it turned out that nothing was adapted for the disabled, although there was other information on the site. Rest has turned into pain. The driver refused to take the bus, because Ksyusha moved on an electric moped, which replaced her stroller. We made a scandal, called the police. I am ashamed to talk about it now, but then I went up to the driver and spat in his face. Sometimes I react too impulsively to my daughter's pain.
Ksyusha, one might say, is lucky: she is a beautiful girl and does not scare anyone with her appearance. Nobody insults her or calls her names. Sometimes people just don't notice. The worst discrimination is indifference. Peers, classmates treat Ksyusha like furniture, do not want to be friends with her, deliberately avoid her. My daughter has many hobbies, she is active, but the problem of communication still remains.
In society, attitudes have improved over the past year. Previously, they couldn’t open or hold the door for us, but now people themselves offer help - put Ksyusha in the car, take them up the stairs. All thanks to the Paralympic Games, Russian athletes have raised the status of people with disabilities with their victories. Although the arrangements leave much to be desired. In Moscow, they turned to the escort service for the disabled in the metro. They help only children under 14 years old, weighing up to 40 kg. Help was refused. The lack of an accessible environment in the country is also a kind of discrimination.
son Yan, 18 years old, cerebral palsy, wheelchair user
My son is in a wheelchair only. There were many bad cases. Three years ago, we flew to Poland for treatment in transit through Moscow, we encountered boorish behavior of Aeroflot employees. When you fly with transfers, it is assumed that you have automatic check-in for a transit flight.
In Moscow, I had a bad feeling, and I decided to check if they had forgotten about us. The administrator said that we were almost late and the last to check in. I clarified what places we have and whether it is possible to plant near the window. In response, I heard rudeness: "You have one seat at the tail of the plane, another at the beginning." I have a panic, I began to explain that we cannot fly separately, my son needs help. In response, I heard: “If you don’t want to, don’t fly.” An escort approached me, tried to calm me down and promised that he would talk to the stewardess and solve the problem right on the plane. I was confused, almost crying. The shift supervisor approached me, he heard everything and immediately offered to write a complaint. A flight attendant came up on board, who was already aware of the situation, apologized on behalf of the company and said that our tickets were changed to business class. Perhaps the only case with a positive result.
Constant problems with disabled parking spaces. There are many of them, but they are busy not on business - and no one is watching this. People don't give up their seats even though I have a special disabled sign on my windshield. Until they see how I pull out a wheelchair and help Jan to change seats, they don’t believe. Once, a man snatched a seat right out of his nose while I was turning around in the car. Politely asked him to make room, explained that it was more convenient to get the stroller here (parking for the disabled is wider). But he did not want to listen to anything and shouted: he was the first to succeed, which means that his place. I approached the security guards of the shopping center, asked why I could not take my rightful place, but there was no reaction. They don't have to follow it. In Europe, police monitor this and issue fines. We all don't care.
Pablo Picasso, Girl in front of a mirror, 1932 Photo: Sharon Mollerus/Flickr
“The scheme “consciousness is separate, the body is separate” is firmly planted in my head”
Natalia, 42 years old
In adolescence, my dissatisfaction with myself and the rejection of my body only intensified. Experiments with appearance began, often disfiguring me and causing even more dissatisfaction. At some point, there was a turning point: consciousness - separately, body - separately. I imagined myself as a thin androgynous with a sexless face, but a girl with a pronounced feminine appearance was looking at me from the mirror. Since then, I do not like mirrors and do not look into them unnecessarily. The male attention only made me feel worse. I hated my body and hid it in strange clothes. She looked like a city madwoman.
I was very annoyed by compliments about my appearance. I thought: are all these people scoffing? Moreover, I am primarily a person, and the body is just a shell. There are also problems in intimate life: it is difficult for me to undress, to show myself, I always think about how I look, how best to turn around in order to hide more of my body. In the light - no, no, because it seems that they look at me and think: what an ugly thing.
The psychiatrist said: “A young, well-groomed woman is sitting here, shaking her leg. Do something useful and don't make trouble for yourself."
Dysmorphophobia has always quietly poisoned my life. This is a daily discomfort, like itching and chronic pain, which you get used to over the years. The scheme “consciousness is separate, the body is separate” is firmly planted in my head. It helps me to live with body dysmorphic disorder. Nevertheless, I try to protect my body, because I still have to live in it. I decorate it with tattoos, which serve as a kind of shield, protection from the outside world. Now they cover about 40% of my skin.
At the age of 20, I turned to a psychiatrist with a referral from a neurologist. He said something along the lines of: “A young woman is sitting here, well-groomed, shaking her leg. Do something useful and don't make trouble for yourself."
The fact that something is wrong with me, I realized only in the era of the Internet. I accidentally stumbled upon information about dysmorphophobia and realized: yes, I really have problems, and I’m not mad with fat! I began to communicate with the same people, read a lot. A year ago, I turned to a psychoanalyst with a different problem, but in the process we began to work on my body dysmorphic disorder. The frustration hasn't gone away, but I'm learning to live with it. During periods of enlightenment, I can even tell myself that I am beautiful, I can look in the mirror, dress beautifully and go out somewhere without being afraid of other people's views. During the period of exacerbation of OCD, anxiety and borderline disorders, dysmorphophobia also worsens: I hate myself, my body, which seems to me disgusting, nasty and somehow dirty.
Recently, I finally told my mother that due to the devaluation of my mental problems in childhood, now, at least once a year, I have to be treated by a psychiatrist, take antidepressants and tranquilizers. She apologized and promised not to do that again.
“Mom believes that you need to work hard at two jobs and there will be no time for worries”
Maria, 29 years old
From early childhood, I was modest and insecure. Of course, the children felt this and often offended me, laughed at my appearance (although, to be honest, I did not stand out in any way).
Dysmorphophobia covered me after puberty, when I realized that too many details of my appearance did not meet accepted standards. It got to the point that I avoided mirrors and, in order not to show a slightly uneven bite, covered my mouth with my hands or suppressed a smile. The worst thing is that I felt like an outsider in this world. As if because of my appearance I will never be able to find my place in life, I will never be happy, I will never feel relaxed and calm, I will never live like other people.
The older generation does not perceive psychological problems. For example, it seems to my mother that all the problems are due to laziness: you have to work hard at two jobs, then there will be no time left for worries! But my boyfriend helped me a lot. He does not tire of repeating that I am very attractive on the outside and interesting on the inside. My friends say the same. Gradually, it dawned on me that they were seeing a nice girl, that is, my whole image, and I only see the details that I do not like: a big nose, uneven teeth, large facial features and much more. It's as if I'm looking into a distorted mirror that lies to me.
Think of the women who at various times were called the most beautiful in the world, for example, Brigitte Bardot or Angelina Jolie. They've had their ups and downs just like us.
Then I decided to show dysmorphophobia that I was stronger: I stopped using makeup before going out, I started smiling (at first through force, and then I got involved). I convinced myself that I didn't have to live up to the standards of beauty that no one had invented. And, to tell the truth, all people have peculiarities, I just got stuck on my own and did not notice that others are also far from podium standards. I just accepted my shortcomings: “Well, yes, I am and will remain that way. People will have to put up with it." True, it is often difficult for me at work: I try not to attract attention, so others think that I am weak or victimized, they often whisper behind my back - or it just seems to me.
The older I get, the easier it is for me to live. I'm starting to realize that beauty doesn't guarantee happiness. Think of the women who at various times were called the most beautiful in the world, for example, Brigitte Bardot or Angelina Jolie. They, like us, had ups and downs, they suffered a lot of grief and resentment, men left them. They live just like ordinary people.
I urge everyone who is faced with psychological problems to pay attention to them, work with them and seek help. Unfortunately, from my own experience I can say that the help of psychologists is not always effective. But a person can help himself: read books on the topic, watch documentaries or shows, discuss problems with loved ones, meditate.
“Feminism and body positivity help me fight body dysmorphia”
Polina, 23 years old
My body dysmorphic disorder didn’t start like most people do—when I was a teenager, after having a baby, or after being bullied. She has always been a part of me. I have always believed that because of my appearance I am unworthy to live, love, communicate, be part of society. I was ashamed of every aspect of my appearance. From the side of those around me, I did not see understanding and support, it seemed to me that I was in the looking glass and no one would ever understand me - they are normal! While my classmates went on dates, talked, explored the world, I sat at home reading books. How can you be like everyone else when you have such a body? I am always dressed from head to toe, I skillfully hide my “flaws”, I don’t go to the beach, and if I have to undress in front of someone, I just dissociate from my body, as if I’m looking at everything from the outside. Here I am, my mind, I love myself more than anything in the world, but my body is a bag of garbage that needs to be disposed of. So I focused on my mind, not the shell.
After leaving school, I got into adulthood and had to adjust. At first, I felt out of place: I was afraid of open spaces, I could not eat and speak in public, I could hardly sit in class, and when I came home, I was terrified. It soon became a daily routine. I could not stand it: I dropped out of school, work and locked myself in four walls in anticipation of death. I didn’t want anything else, my whole life was destroyed. Then there were long trips to the doctors, mountains of pills, mental illness led me to.
It is interesting for me to read the stories of strong people who have accepted themselves, to study the origins of our complexes, the influence of the media and corporations on our perception of ourselves.
Subsequently, the pills helped me relieve the symptoms: I was able to go outside, work, communicate, but I never recovered. At one time, suicide was my fixed idea. Perhaps this is how it ends up in the end. I do not know.
I would like to completely reshape my appearance. I still haven't dated anyone because I can't imagine how anyone can fall in love with a person with such a body. But one morning I woke up with the thought: love yourself, do not compare with others, accept yourself for who you are, since self-hatred does not help. Over time, I came to feminism and body positivity. It is interesting for me to read the stories of strong people who have accepted themselves, to study the origins of our complexes, the influence of the media and corporations on our perception of ourselves.
Now I don’t compare myself with others, I don’t think badly about myself. I have only one life, one body and one chance, and I have not had time to do so much! I no longer need scales, a centimeter and recognition of my beauty by others.
“I humiliated the beautiful because I envied their appearance”
Xenia, 18 years old
Even as a child, my sister opened my eyes to the fact that I was a freak: she said that I was a mistake of nature. For as long as I can remember, she's always poked me with it. At the age of 10, I hated my terrible face to the point that I began to hide it behind a scarf, cap and glasses. I was sick of my huge long nose, crooked mouth, thin lips, my pop-eyed eyes and pale skin. The sight is terrible, in fact. I hit mirrors because I didn't want to see my disgusting reflection in them.
Once I came to school with a bag on my head, but for some reason the teachers took it as an attempt to disrupt the lesson. In class, I rotted everyone I considered cute, set my thug friends against them. I even somehow brought one to a suicide attempt, and I was registered with juvenile affairs. She considered herself a homegrown princess, and I publicly dipped her head in the toilet in the school toilet and pressed the drain. After that, she was nicknamed the toilet queen and the whole school was bantering. She tried to commit suicide. Saved. At school, they didn’t touch me, they were afraid, because I wave my fists on a par with the guys, and I can cripple!
At some point, my parents took me to a psychologist. She said that I had body dysmorphophobia and prescribed pills. I didn’t drink them because I go in for sports, I have been doing mixed martial arts since the age of 7. Pills give severe side effects, if you drink them, you can say goodbye to sports. People from this shit turn into vegetables. Yes, and I do not believe these psychologists: they only pump out money. And in general, I need to correct the face, and not eat the wheels.
I easily find a common language with people, but I come home and fall into hysterics. 90% of the environment is not aware of my problem
Now I'm saving up for plastic surgery in Moscow. Our surgeons refused to operate on me, saying that they did not see any problems. For them, everything that is not outright ugliness is considered normal. And I want to be beautiful, like girls from Instagram.
I have no problems with the opposite sex: the boys see me as a person. At least I'm not a dummy, unlike the pretty skins. Nobody looks at my ugliness. I easily find a common language with people, but I come home and fall into hysterics. 90% of the environment is not aware of my problem.
I still try to hide my face as much as possible. Everyone thinks it's such a style that I love bright scarves and funny glasses. My figure is excellent, but my face didn’t come out. I hardly take pictures. There are a couple of photos - and then a friend persuaded me, but there is not a single selfie. I hate shops and fitting rooms because there are mirrors everywhere! At home, we only have a mirror in our parents' bedroom. Nowhere else: they know that I will break. I demand from my parents that they admit that I am terrible, but they do not recognize. It comes to scandals! So I try not to talk about it with them.
I gave birth to a freak child. It is impossible to look at him without a shudder. I dare not even describe it to you. At the hospital, I asked the doctors to kill him. I felt that if I took it in my arms, then the maternal instinct would wake up in me, and I would doom myself and him to eternal torment, which was the result. I was offered to take him to the orphanage, but would that save me from the torment? My son's deformity is incurable. I hide it from neighbors, acquaintances, relatives. If you could imagine what my life has become... I'm on the verge of suicide. Why is our society so cruel? I still remember how the doctors screamed at me when I asked him to give him a single injection that would solve all the problems ...
I. P., Kursk
In preparing this material, I encountered a similar reaction. Doctors, mothers, obstetricians and officials, to whom I tried to read the letter, began to shout in one voice: "How can you?! What cynicism! Yes, we have never even heard the word such a wild "freak"!" Maybe. Deviation from the norm is now called pathology. But there is such a word in Russian. There is even a whole science dealing with deformities - "teratology".
The problem of whether or not such people should live in this world is also not new. In Sparta and Athens, newborn deformed children were thrown off a cliff. In ancient Rome, it was allowed to kill children "without a human image." In the Middle Ages, the birth of a freak was considered the result of the fact that his mother sinned with the devil, and such women were considered witches. In the XVI-XVII centuries. freaks were publicly burned at the stake. In 1683, a child "with a cat's head" and his mother were burned in Copenhagen.
In Russia, in 1704, Peter I issued a special decree forbidding midwives from killing freaks.
Both humane Soviet medicine and our current one know such cases. Of course, it is unlikely that any of the doctors will admit that they did something like this with their own hands. And not even under the fear of the existing criminal liability for this, but simply ... Nevertheless, doctors who, by the nature of their specialization, have to face every day how cruelly nature sometimes takes revenge on a person, know that parents are sometimes ready to take it to heart and their own and others' sins. If only not to carry this cross through life and not to know that somewhere the little creature, abandoned by you to the mercy of domestic social protection, is "adapting".
"Sometimes you operate on such a child, and the mother prays outside the door:" Lord! If only he were dead!" - says L. Frolova, director of the medical and practical complex for the treatment of children with congenital malformations of the face and jaws. - Or they invite you for a consultation and ask: "Can you make him ... well, how- painlessly..." I immediately answer them: "Who did you invite: a doctor or a murderer?!"
“During the 4 years that we have been in existence, I have been approached with such requests three times,” says A. Prityko, head of the Children’s Center for Neurosurgery, Psychoneurology and Surgery of the Craniofacial Region. “When we say that we will not kill anyone, they take away children and leave. They don’t want to continue treatment.”
There were no statistics on how many such babies are born in Russia. Dr. Prityke claims that every year we have 10,000 small Quasimodos that he could help. Of these, 50-60 people get to his Center, the only one in the country. As a rule, these are all abandoned children. Until now, their treatment has depended on the conscience of the children's home workers. So what will happen now that everything has come down to money?
Previously, the birth of freaks was explained by the wrath of the Lord, comets or impending disaster. Today, every specialist can name their reasons and "geography" of the appearance of deformities. L. Frolova, for example, classifies deformities - up to the microdistrict of the capital and even the season. However, she is not going to publish this data: after all, there is nowhere to go from the dangerous area anyway. The main causes of ugliness: our hard life, smoking, alcohol, ecology, unfavorable conception cycles.
The ways to prevent the birth of little sufferers come down to one thing: to see the pathology as early as possible and persuade the woman to have an abortion. The indications for this have now been expanded and the period has been increased to 6 months.
In order to accurately determine the pathology, there are many methods: from the insanely expensive cytogenetic (an analysis that, according to N. Volodin, is done in the West for free for all pregnant women over 40) to more or less simple cytochemical. Of all this, only ultrasound scanning (ultrasound) is really available to our expectant mothers, which a little more than half of pregnant women can do.
In addition, it is clear that the pathology of pathology is different. I have seen children with Down's disease, there are many of them in orphanages, and sometimes they can hardly be distinguished from healthy ones. But one day, when I saw a child with a head several times larger than his body, with atrophied arms and legs, I could not hide my horror ... And my first thought was - what does he live for?
When I asked the doctors, and it would not be more humane .., they involuntarily burst out: "And who, in your opinion, should do this? Who will dare to commit murder?" But since there is such a question: who will do it, then, even theoretically, there may be situations when it is necessary to solve it?
About the phenomenon of children forgotten in a hot car
“The defendant was immense, well over 300 pounds, but grief and shame outweighed and pulled him to the ground. He hunched over on a hard wooden chair, in which he barely fit, and sobbed softly, pouring tears into napkin after napkin and nervously jerking his leg under the table. in the front row of those watching the process sat his dumbfounded wife, absent-mindedly fiddling with the wedding ring on her finger.
The room was like a tomb. Witnesses spoke quietly and recounted events so painful that many of them lost control of themselves. The nurse, who described the behavior of the client when he was taken to the hospital by the police, was crying. He was almost catatonic, she recalled, with his eyes screwed shut and his body rocking back and forth, locked away from the world by his indescribable anguish. He was silent for a long time until the nurse sat down beside him and took his hand. Then he spoke - said that he did not want any tranquilizers and did not deserve to be relieved of this pain. He wanted to feel it all, to the drop, and then die.
The state of Virginia tried him for manslaughter. The facts were not disputed. Miles Harrison, 49, was the sweetest person, a decent businessman and a caring, responsible father - until that day last summer when, swamped with problems at work and answering endless phone calls from employees and clients, he forgot to take his son Chase to kindergarten. The kid, fastened with belts to the child seat, slowly baked himself in the hot hot July sun in the car.
A terrible, inexplicable mistake, which cannot be justified. But was it a crime? The judge had to answer this question.
At some point, during the break, Harrison hesitantly got to his feet, turned to leave the meeting room, and saw, for the first time, that other people were watching his shame. The huge man lowered his eyes and swayed; someone supported him. Gasping for air, he suddenly cried out in a strange, lamenting falsetto, “My poor boy!”
A group of children from a nearby school came to the court for a planned field trip. The teacher obviously did not expect such. Just a few minutes later, the dumbfounded children were hastily taken out of the hall.
The process went on for three days. And all three days in one of the last rows sat two women who spent many hours to get to Virginia. Unlike most of those present, they were neither relatives, nor friends, nor employees of the accused.
"... the lower part of the body was red or red-lilac..."
When the accuser read out the most terrible, unbearable evidence - the testimony of the pathologist - the women in the back row clung to each other.
"...green spots on the abdomen... visceral lesions... sagging skin... internal temperature reaches 108 degrees Fahrenheit by the time of death..."
Mary - the older and shorter one - trembled. Lin - younger, taller, with long golden hair - pulled her to her, hugged her. They sat like that for a long time, their heads bowed, holding hands.
When the process was over, Lyn Balfour and Mary Parks quietly left the room without attracting anyone's attention. They did not want to be present at this trial, but they felt obliged - to the defendant and, to a large extent, to themselves.
It was at least unusual: three people gathered in one room, united by the same terrible episode in their biography - all three accidentally killed their children. They killed the same way, inexplicably and very "modern".
Officially, this is called "death by hyperthermia." Overheat. When this happens to young children, the details are most often very similar: in all respects, a loving and attentive parent one day finds himself busy, or distracted, or upset, or confused by some changes in the schedule, and just ... forgets the child in the car. This happens about 15-25 times a year in the United States, somewhere between late spring and early fall. Season on the nose.
A couple of decades ago, this happened quite rarely. But in the early 1990s, auto safety experts announced that airbags could kill children and suggested moving child seats to the back seat. Then, for the sake of even greater safety for the smallest passengers, parents began to be advised to turn the child seats facing backwards. And if few people could then imagine the terrible consequences of reducing the “visibility” of the child for parents, then ... who will blame them for this? Well, who is able to forget their own child in the car?
As it turns out, rich people can. And the poor. And the middle class. Parents of all ages and nationalities. Mothers forget their children as often as fathers. It happens to the chronically distracted and the fanatically organized, the university graduates and the barely literate. Over the past ten years, this has happened to a dentist, a postman, a social worker, a policeman, an accountant, a soldier, a lawyer's assistant, an electrician, a Protestant minister, and a yeshiva student. It happened to a nurse, a construction worker, a school vice principal, a psychologist, a college professor, and a pizza maker. Yes, and the pediatrician. And with the one who "makes rockets."
Last year it happened three times in one day - the worst day of the worst year for a scary phenomenon that is not going anywhere.
The facts vary slightly, but one scary moment is always present - the moment when a parent realizes what he has done, and sometimes after a phone call from a nanny or spouse / wife. This is followed by a panicked dash towards the car. The worst awaits them there - the worst in the world.
Each case has its own terrible “stroke”. One father parked his car next to the carnival. When he discovered the body of his son, harmonicas were merrily playing nearby. Another father wanted to end his torment and tried to snatch the gun from the policeman. Several people - including Mary Parks - arrived at the kindergarten to pick up the child they allegedly brought there in the morning, without noticing the corpse in the back seat.
In Tennessee, a businessman will have to live with this: three times an alarm detector went off in his car. The child fought so hard that the car began to hum. And three times dad looked out the window, looked at the parking lot, which was hot like a broiler, did not see anyone near the car, and turned off the signal with a remote through the glass. After that, he calmly continued to work.
Perhaps no other act of human recklessness so defies societal notions of crime, punishment, justice, and mercy. According to statistics, in 40% of such cases, the police consider the facts and decide not to prosecute, ruling that the death of the child was an accident, and that the terrible "error" of memory has already given the forgetful parent a life sentence of guilt and pain, far exceeding any possible sentence. court or jury.
But in 60% of cases, the prosecutor, having considered almost identical facts through the prism of the same legislation, decides that “negligence” led to such monstrous consequences that in this case it can be classified as a crime and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
It just so happened that just five days before Miles Harrison forgot his son in the car in the parking lot of his business office moving company, a very similar incident occurred a couple of hundred miles southeast, in the same state. Tired after a long day at work, an electrician named Andrew Culpepper took his son from his parents, came home with him, went into the house and ... completely forgot that he had left the boy in the car. Andrew collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. The child has died.
Harrison was brought to trial. Culpepper is not. In both cases, only one person made the decision to prosecute. They were just different people."
This is part of an article by American journalist Gene Weingarten that was published in The Washington Post magazine. One of the main characters is the infamous Miles Harrison, who left a boy adopted from Russia in his car.
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