A Case For Rehabilitation

My older sister and I were inseparable until I found out that she was a child molester.

Content warning for child sexual abuse, pedophilia, suicide, and substance abuse

    My sister had been living with my brother, his wife, and their young children, often filling the role of a babysitter. One day, they’d kicked her out of the house. Apparently, she said, their personalities just didn’t mesh.

    “But there’s something else, too,” my sister explained. “You’re not going to believe this. They accused me of touching Kaylie.”

    Kaylie is my brother’s youngest daughter. At the time, she was three years old.

    I stared.

    “They said what?” I asked, not believing what I was hearing.

    “They said I touched her inappropriately,” my sister continued. “They have Kaylie on camera explaining what I supposedly did. Here, I’ll show you.”

    She angled her phone towards me. I could see a video of Kaylie, tiny and adorable, matter-of-factly explaining how my sister had supposedly touched her.

     I was too shocked for words. I am a rape survivor myself, although not a CSA survivor, and I was familiar enough with the field to know that in most cases, children don’t make up stories like this, especially not children as young as Kaylie. After talking to my brother and his family about what had happened, I was even more convinced that my sister was really an offender.

    At this time in my life, I was entrenched in a particularly toxic branch of the social justice community. I firmly believed in cancel culture and in cutting people out of my life even for harmless offenses. I was also an anti-map who had made hating pedophiles and child molesters part of my identity.

    But even knowing that my sister was very likely a child molester, I couldn’t let her go. Recently, she’d been the only supportive person in my life as I went through a very rough breakup, and I was beyond grateful to her for that. I’d been suicidal, and she’d probably saved my life. I’d come to think of child molesters as monsters, but my sister wasn’t a monster: she was kind and funny and most importantly, part of my family.

    Even knowing that she’d done something beyond horrible, something that would scar Kaylie for life, I couldn’t disown her. I pictured my sister beyond bars in prison, without any friends or family there to support her, and I knew that if that happened, she would likely spiral and maybe even end up hurting someone again.

    Instead of disowning my sister, I wanted to help her recover. I wanted to help her to understand that she’d done something awful and help ensure that she’d never do it again.

    Many people think that abusers and rapists – especially child molesters – are irredeemably evil. I can’t even count the amount of hate I’ve gotten for just identifying as a map, mostly from people who think that anyone who identifies this way must be actively molesting children. I’ve been told to die and to kill myself so many times that I’m now completely numb to it. And I’ve never even hurt a child; I’m just being honest about my attractions.

    The vitriol against actual child abusers is much worse. People often say that rapists and child molesters deserve to be raped in prison for what they’ve done. In our society, the idea that child molesters deserve to go to prison -- and that they deserve the maximum amount of pain and retribution – goes unquestioned.

    Abusers should face consequences for their actions. But prison, rape, and death aren’t the answer. Instead, we should work with abusers of all kinds to help prevent them from doing more harm.

    After my ex-boyfriend was arrested for being a flasher, he received counseling from a therapist who specialized in rehabilitating offenders. I had come to a session with him and was impressed by how the therapist treated my ex like a real person instead of some stereotype of an abuser. I ended up recommending this therapist to my sister.

    Unfortunately, my sister wasn’t able to see a specialized therapist about her problems, because the rest of my family wasn’t as understanding as I was. My parents threw her out of the house, forcing her into homelessness and extreme poverty, leaving therapy and its expensive copays out of the question. My sister, without the support of any local friends or family, had to move in with friends who lived halfway across the country.

    My brother confided in me that my sister had an alcohol and drug problem, and that she had been very intoxicated when she’d hurt Kaylie. Causing her to become homeless did nothing to fix this underlying substance abuse problem. If anything, it just made it worse.

    And the fact that she’d left the state before she had even admitted her wrongdoing just created more trauma for our whole family. CPS investigated my nieces and nephews, forcing Kaylie to recount what had happened to her, and asking invasive sexual questions of her young siblings to ensure that my sister hadn’t hurt them as well.

    My sister is still homeless, addicted, and struggling to this day. She has serious health problems because of her alcoholism. Although we used to be very close, now we’re practically strangers. I have no idea if she has learned from her mistakes, or even if she has offended again, although I hope to God she hasn’t.

    If my parents had been a little more understanding and allowed her to remain under their roof while she obtained therapy, maybe my sister would have had a very different future.

    Punitive justice doesn’t solve the problem of child abuse; it just creates even more problems. Demonizing offenders doesn’t do anything to help prevent them from hurting someone again. In fact, taking away all of their support and throwing them in prison likely does the opposite, just like abusive anti-map sentiments make maps more likely to offend.

    Hatred of offenders is entirely performative. If our society actually wants to do something to prevent child abuse, we need to work with offenders and support them into bettering themselves.