Dr. Vincent Fellitti enlightens us to the fact that ACE goes unrecognized because for many of us our adverse childhood experiences are lost in time and protected by shame, by secrecy, and by social taboos against routinely exploring certain realms of human experience.
Following the Southern Tier bike trail mapped out by the Adventure Cycle Network I’m a member of, inevitably I come upon a community or small town and encounter many people whose childhood experiences are lost in time. People who have “keep doors closed to the past” and are living at the intersection of poverty, violence and trauma. A man spread out face down under a bridge overpass, a woman hunched over sleeping against the wall of a dilapidated building, a young couple sitting in their truck as she cowers and he screams and curses vile epithets, his face inches away from hers, a mother with her young children at her side holding a sign that says” lost my job help me feed my kids.”
Inevitably I’ll stop and share a conversation or two and often the doors begin to open and people begin to share their story. They reach back into the past and find those moments, those experiences that reveal so much. Recently at one of the campgrounds I stayed at in Louisiana, not far from Baton Rouge, I had the good fortune as I was leaving camp to sit down and share a cup of coffee with the camp's owner and two of the women that work for her, women all in their mid- to late 50’s
I’ve changed their names to protect their privacy and will call the owner Nina and her employees/friends, Melinda, and Chris. These three warriors have been through many battles in their lives. Their friendship, camaraderie, and sisterhood is I’m sure greatly due to their shared adverse childhood experiences that have been lost in time.
Nina was raised by two alcoholic and abusive parents who she says, “never gave me nothing.” When her dad returned from Vietnam he threw Nina out of the home picking his sister’s family over her. At 14 Nina was alone, on her own, and had her first apartment. She was pregnant with her first child by 16, got involved in drugs, but at some point found her faith and the strength to quit. She met the man she runs and owns the campground with; they’ve been married for over 29 years and share seven kids. Actually one of her sons committed suicide in 2008. She was matter-of-fact when she talked about the suicide; Melinda had to remind her of the year of his death. They also have a son, “who is nothing but a dope fiend, will never be nothing but a dope fiend”, just telling it like it is, said Nina.
Melinda, who's not much for talking, was sexually abused and physically beaten throughout her childhood. Nina spoke for her and said she ended up marrying a biker who beat her half to death, at some point said enough is enough, left him and found her way here where she’s lived and worked for the past 10 years. When I spoke about a woman I met during this ride I’ll call Louise, who was sexually abused by her stepfather from the age of 6 to 16, I noticed that Melinda got emotional and was struggling with her feelings.
Chris relayed that she’s been all over the country but was born in Oregon and only moved to this part of Louisiana to care for her son’s baby while her son, currently in the Army, is stationed in Kuwait. They laughed when she said, “If and when I die, I don’t want to be buried here! I want to be buried in Connecticut.” Said the reason she traveled so much in her childhood was because her father was a Baptist minister who kept moving them from place to place. She also told us that he was abusive beyond words with her and her brother. He once beat them so bad that he nearly killed them and the state finally stepped in. They diagnosed him as schizophrenic and sent him to an institution. While he was locked up Chris’s mother taught herself to drive using the tractor in the barn, got some money, a car, and moved her and her brother to Connecticut. Her father got out and followed them eventually, but by that time she had been sent away to boarding school. Chris said a lady in boarding school changed her life and saved her. It was the sports coach Mrs. Agee who ran the sports program and who connected with Chris. Mrs. Agee who got her to play basketball, baseball, volleyball…you name it. "She cared about me and changed my life."
Three women who have become connected by chance, who found solace in each other and who opened little doors into their lives as they shared their stories with me over a cup of coffee. Nina, by the way, has a great sense of humor and large heart. They all do! I was amazed to find out that they only brought Nina home from the hospital two weeks earlier after having suffered a heart attack! You wouldn’t know it the way she was handling, lifting and hauling the large cases of Coke that had just been delivered. I jumped up to help her saying,” You shouldn’t be lifting those!” She waved me away saying, “Son, I’m not done living and I ain’t gonna slow down now.”
- Two out of three adults experienced at least one category of ACE.
- If any one ACE is present, there is an 87% chance at least one other category of ACE is present, and a 50% chance of three or more.
- Women are 50% more likely than men to have an ACE score > 5
We need to continue to talk about ACE with anyone who is willing to engage with us in the conversation. If we are going to create systemic change in our world and our societies, we are going to have to end the silence, the shame, and the secrecy.
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