
Rhonda Sciortino:
When a child grows up amidst sudden outbursts of yelling and screaming or worse, physical violence, it changes the child. It influences the way his or her brain develops, the assumptions he or she makes, and the risks he or she is willing to take. Without appropriate intervention, these changes can often be lasting.
Actions and words of the people in authority become normal. Think about how a baby learns to walk and talk. The baby tries to mimic what he or she sees and hears. Imagine the baby raised by people who think it’s funny for the baby to learn curse words. These are the people who think it’s hysterical when toddlers learn to separate their middle fingers and “flip people off.” These people aren’t cautious about what’s on TV, about what they say in the presence of the child, or how others are treated in front of the child. Consequently, the child grows up hearing and seeing things that no one should see and hear.
With every raised voice and shattered dish or rough sexual act witnessed, the child’s fear and anxiety level raises and does not come back down. Eventually the vigilance the child feels becomes hyper vigilance, and that becomes his or her norm.
I’m not suggesting that those of us who grew up in a violent environment are too broken to be fixed. In fact, some of us grow up and thrive in careers that others simply wouldn’t be able to handle. For example, people in law enforcement and combat soldiers are often excellent in those roles because of the live-ammunition-boot-camp they experienced when they were too little to do anything other than figure out how to survive.
The fact that many of us use the lessons learned in violence to survive and thrive in our adult lives doesn’t discount the residual effect. For example, I recently posted a request on Facebook to let me know how experiencing violence as a child changed them. I received responses from accomplished, successful adults aged 20 through 60 that included, “I can’t stand loud noises,” “I can’t sit in a restaurant unless my back is against the wall because I can’t stand anyone walking up behind me,” “I don’t like crowds,” and “I won’t stand up for myself because I never want to argue.”
I echo all these sentiments. I refer to the residual effects of my violent childhood as my “goofiness.” I’ve embraced it. I no longer fight it. So, I don’t like crowds. So what? I don’t go places where I know no one. I won’t join…anything. I’ve tried, but I go once and never return. I understand that my friends often feel that I’m missing out on so much, and perhaps I am. But I’m fine with it. I can do whatever I have to do for work, but my preference will always be to create places and relationships in which I can feel safe. A deep desire to create and maintain safety is normal to the person who has experienced violence.
I hate that there are predators who take advantage of the changes that happen in kids who’ve been victims of violence. People who seek to profit from the vulnerability of victims of childhood violence are the worst kind of predators. They understand that children who have been hurt by those who were supposed to love and protect them want to be loved and protected. They know that children who’ve been hit expect to be hit. They know that children who’ve been raped believe, on some level, that being used for someone else’s pleasure is all they’re good for.
So what can caregivers do about kids who have been victims of violence? Tell kids that what happened to them wasn’t right. SHOW kids the right way to be in relationship. Accept their quirkiness and don’t force what doesn’t come naturally to them. Gently lead them to try new things while creating routine and consistency which spells S-A-F-E-T-Y to them. If you do these things, you will eventually help the children within your influence to create a new “normal.”
Dr. Sandie Morgan:
The heartrending impact of environmental violence has been observed when newborns have tiny little scars in the palms of their hands from clenching their fists in utero. Reports of hyper-vigilance include children who sleep with their eyes open, or who do not sleep until totally exhausted.
The results of sleep deprivation become part of the cycle of spiraling anxiety.
Children often develop adaptive behaviors that serve them well as they struggle to survive abusive circumstances. However, after the child is removed from that environment or grows up, those same adaptive behaviors can then be identified as maladaptive anxiety or depression disorders.
The question is “what can we do?” The field of brain science is growing and uncovering new strategies that are very encouraging. *Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) is one promising therapy that identifies maladaptive behaviors and cognitive processes and systematically uses psycho-education and skills training.
A student in my Family Violence class told me his story of growing up surrounded by violence and threats of violence that resulted in anxiety and depression issues. He wanted to tell me that what he was learning in class is that this is not forever. He realizes he has work to do. One encouraging insight he reported is that his brain is still forming for the next few years. He took the class to make sense of his past and now he’s finding a way forward to a resilient future.

Owner/Editor - Chris Chmielewski