MK forum

I have never had an apology from Susan Majors. The only way my parents even found out about the abuse was when I hand carried a letter home to them, from her, on one of the school breaks. I didn't know what was in the letter. I have never seen the letter, but from what I understood, she apologized to them. I don't know what prompted her to write a letter to them, I don't know that I would have given them the letter (living under the quiet code of not complaining), and I don't know why she felt the need to apologize to them and not to so many others...or why I didn't receive the apology. Yes, what she did was abusive. Yes, I remember the shock and shame of it. I remember the belt buckle. I remember that hallway between the school rooms, and putting my hands on the desk, and the late afternoon sun, and not understanding what I had done that was so wrong. I remember hiding the bruise and being embarrassed when another girl saw it. I remember being scared of showing it to Mr. Gess, because he made me feel strange. Having a daughter who is now the age I was, I feel anger too. But it wasn't just that beating. It was the constant feeling of keeping things to yourself. Teased by other kids? Keep quiet. Food tastes bad? Keep quiet. Wet your bed? Keep quiet. Dorm parents uninvolved or mean or unfair? Keep quiet. School too hard or you don't understand something? Keep quiet. Keep your chin up. Square your shoulders. Smile. Practice piano. Hide your tears. Don't be homesick. Sing your song. Clear your plate. Do your chores. Dress nicely for church. Don't squirm when Mr. Gess rubs your arm in chapel, making it sore. Obey the rules, even the ones you don't know. Don't ask. Don't tell. Internalize, internalize, internalize. It wasn't just the spankings. Not for me. Not that one from Mrs. Majors, not the one from Mr. Hines for playing in the camper that I didn't know we weren't allowed to play in. Not the one from Mr. Mayer for not knowing my 5x's tables. Those were rough, especially for a "good kid" like myself, but it was the over-arching feeling of being utterly alone. In the midst of a crowd....utterly alone.
I've gone through hard times in life....times even harder than my 4th, 5th and 6th grade years at Tambo...I don't wallow in those years, I don't let them make me bitter, I refuse to give those years more prominence in my life story than they should hold, but I also will not let that time there be something that I keep hidden. I wasn't hurt as badly as so many others were. My "story" isn't as bad as some other people's stories. But if I can share mine, even through the tears, and if it can help someone else feel free enough to tell their's....well then, it is worth it.

As for what I need from Susan Majors and NTM....I'd like an apology. But not only to me. I'd like one to all of those kids who are now adults (and it wasn't just my generation...I was appalled to learn that she had spanked my aunts and uncles before me). I'd like the mission to say "we screwed up". Yes, they were there doing a good work. Yes, God's message was spread, lives were changed, souls were saved. I would not undo that work for anything. But there needs to be an acknowledgement that in the midst of all that good, there were very, very bad things going on as well.

Good, good posts. My heart breaks for all you endured. Your voice is now being heard. Courageous. Wise.

They didn't break you, did they. You survived, with strength! I don't hear bitterness. I hear empowerment.

Thanks for your honesty and insight.

I hope NTM reads your posts. They need to give you that apology.

Now.

Raz.
Thank you.
Tears.
Just, thank you.

Susan Major is still teaching at the MK school in Mexico. I don't know if they would be interested in knowing about these things, but I feel like they should be made known.

This is the school's principal: http://usa.ntm.org/missionaries/tad-and-deanna-nuce

Please finish the puzzle!
No one knows how many pieces are missing.
Or how long it may take.
Don't be afraid.
THE ABUSE MUST STOP.
We can each do our part.