Columnists
Don’t Cry Over Spilled Coffee
I don’t even know where to start this morning. I have a veritable cornucopia of choices. Rats taking over Toronto; the alleged rape of Andrea Robin Skinner; the closure of the Science Centre and the attempted assassination of former president, Donald Trump, CBS Sunday Morning being cancelled because of DJTurnip’s attempted assassination, channel-afterchannel inundated with Trump-anation videos and “witness” accounts and conspiracy theories and I spilled my coffee.
Let me start with, “I spilled my coffee.” Most of you know I have a very close relationship with my morning cup-o-Joe. I really do. I don’t know when the relationship between me and the mug started, but I do know when I go to bed at night there is a nanosecond when I smile and think, “No matter what tomorrow brings, there will be coffee and I will enjoy it on the side porch.” This morning was no different, except that I would have enjoyed the first cup on the side porch and the next cup while writing this column and watching CBS Sunday Morning—but that first cup barely made it to the side porch. It actually made it to the side porch floor before I had a moment to sip and savour that caffeine brainbuzziness. I did finish what didn’t spill then headed in to watch CBS Sunday Morning. Much to my dismay, that second cuppa Joe was wasted on the seemingly endless loop of “POP POP POP POP”, a bloodied ear and the incidental remarks about the people who were injured and the person who died. I can see this whole fiasco getting as much attention as the Insurrection of January 6th. I feel as if it’s some kind of marketing strategy gone horribly wrong in every way. And then?
Well, and then I decided to turn away from the undrained swamp that is DJTurnip, his family and his supporters and focus on a much more stressing/pressing/distressing matter. The alleged rape of Andrea Robin Skinner by her stepfather, Alice Munro’s husband. I hate to use the word “alleged”, but it is what it is, right now. The problem I have with this news story is the number of people—a lot of them women—who are quick to point a finger at Ms. Skinner’s mother and ask why she didn’t report the abuse to the police. Let me just say, “I’m not a fan of victim blaming” and I believe there to be two victims in this case. Alice Munro’s denial, or avoidance, of the rape may well have been a very powerful defence mechanism for herself. While it is almost impossible for a lot of us to believe Alice Munro could remain silent knowing her daughter was being abused by her spouse, it happens a lot. The denial of spousal abuse heaped upon a child isn’t just an Alice Munro thing. And it’s far too easy for the rest of us to say we’d never allow that to happen to one of our own children. This is not to say that the child is at fault for not telling the non-abusing parent. However, it is enough to say there was definitely something we may never know about Alice Munro’s private life. She may well have been a victim of abuse, as a child, herself. She may have been a victim of abuse by her spouse. If she were a victim of abuse, she may have told a responsible adult what happened and was told she was a troublemaker or a liar. It is quite possible Ms. Munro may have used the same avoidance behaviour with her own daughter. We don’t know. We do know most situations of physical, emotional or sexual abuse go unreported because of the shame, the blame and the fame. A person is embarrassed if it happened, they don’t want to be blamed for leading the predator on and they certainly don’t want the public to know.
A violent act is a choice. Is it possible Alice Munro was a victim of verbal abuse and threatening behaviour from her spouse? Was her daughter a victim of sexual abuse and threats if she spoke up about the abuse? In the face of public scrutiny, the inevitable shaming and blaming, Ms. Skinner spoke up. Let’s start listening to and supporting the victims. Personally, I’m taking back the word “alleged”. It just doesn’t work for me right now and it sure as H E double hockey sticks doesn’t work for Ms. Skinner.
What we know for sure is that Alice Munro’s characters were complex, unpredictable, full of contradictions – as we all are. What she was trying to do was seeng deep inside them and understand them without judging. In this way – of course within her exceptionally written and crafted stories – she helped the readers to see that their darkest experiences, flows, traumas, even serious misdeeds are more universal then they ever believed – and thus helped them to deal with their past and present, be more forgiving,, being bore literate about it and – maybe – become better persons, more understanding human beings. Unfortunately neither her short stories nor she helped her own daughter.