rambling thoughts regarding Dylan Farrow's open letter

When I first read Dylan Farrow's open letter, I wept. Literally wept. I
wept for that scared little girl. I wept for that brave young girl who
dared to tell her mother. I wept for the loss of her innocence, both
sexually and what turned out to be her misplaced trust in Justice. I wept
for the horrors forced upon her, beginning with that Weasel Prick, Woody
Allen, and on beyond to the rude, coarse treatment heaped on her young
shoulders.
I wept, and then I became God Damned mad.
Ty Cobb was certainly a mean son of a bitch, but if anyone could out do him
it is Woody Allen.
I feel humbled in the presence of women like Dylan Farrow. She truly is an
American...no, a World Class Hero. She deserves her own Golden Globe Award.
But that's just my humble opinion.

Carl Jarvis
----- Original Message -----
From: "joe harcz Comcast" <joeharcz@comcast.net>
To: "Blind Democracy Discussion List" <blind-democracy@octothorp.org>
Sent: Thursday, February 06, 2014 3:53 AM
Subject: Re: An Open Letter From Dylan Farrow


Sorry I didn't read this before my rant against Ty Cobb, etc.

Sad and bizarre. All I can say is this is a brave woman, and she was a brave
little girl too.

No matter what she is in my personal Hall of Fame.

She is a model survivor!
----- Original Message -----
From: "Miriam Vieni" <miriamvieni@optonline.net>
To: "'Blind Democracy Discussion List'" <blind-democracy@octothorp.org>
Sent: Wednesday, February 05, 2014 10:18 PM
Subject: An Open Letter From Dylan Farrow


> An Open Letter From Dylan Farrow
> By DYLAN FARROW
> Frances SilverDylan Farrow
> (A note from Nicholas Kristof: In 1993, accusations that Woody Allen had
> abused his adoptive daughter, Dylan Farrow, filled the headlines, part of
> a
> sensational story about the celebrity split between Allen and his
> girlfriend, Mia Farrow. This is a case that has been written about
> endlessly, but this is the first time that Dylan Farrow herself has
> written
> about it in public. It's important to note that Woody Allen was never
> prosecuted in this case and has consistently denied wrongdoing; he
> deserves
> the presumption of innocence. So why publish an account of an old case on
> my
> blog? Partly because the Golden Globe lifetime achievement award to Allen
> ignited a debate about the propriety of the award. Partly because the root
> issue here isn't celebrity but sex abuse. And partly because countless
> people on all sides have written passionately about these events, but we
> haven't fully heard from the young woman who was at the heart of them.
> I've
> written a column about this, but it's time for the world to hear Dylan's
> story in her own words.)
>
> What's your favorite Woody Allen movie? Before you answer, you should
> know:
> when I was seven years old, Woody Allen took me by the hand and led me
> into
> a dim, closet-like attic on the second floor of our house. He told me to
> lay
> on my stomach and play with my brother's electric train set. Then he
> sexually assaulted me. He talked to me while he did it, whispering that I
> was a good girl, that this was our secret, promising that we'd go to Paris
> and I'd be a star in his movies. I remember staring at that toy train,
> focusing on it as it traveled in its circle around the attic. To this day,
> I
> find it difficult to look at toy trains.
> For as long as I could remember, my father had been doing things to me
> that
> I didn't like. I didn't like how often he would take me away from my mom,
> siblings and friends to be alone with him. I didn't like it when he would
> stick his thumb in my mouth. I didn't like it when I had to get in bed
> with
> him under the sheets when he was in his underwear. I didn't like it when
> he
> would place his head in my naked lap and breathe in and breathe out. I
> would
> hide under beds or lock myself in the bathroom to avoid these encounters,
> but he always found me. These things happened so often, so routinely, so
> skillfully hidden from a mother that would have protected me had she
> known,
> that I thought it was normal. I thought this was how fathers doted on
> their
> daughters. But what he did to me in the attic felt different. I couldn't
> keep the secret anymore.
>
> When I asked my mother if her dad did to her what Woody Allen did to me, I
> honestly did not know the answer. I also didn't know the firestorm it
> would
> trigger. I didn't know that my father would use his sexual relationship
> with
> my sister to cover up the abuse he inflicted on me. I didn't know that he
> would accuse my mother of planting the abuse in my head and call her a
> liar
> for defending me. I didn't know that I would be made to recount my story
> over and over again, to doctor after doctor, pushed to see if I'd admit I
> was lying as part of a legal battle I couldn't possibly understand. At one
> point, my mother sat me down and told me that I wouldn't be in trouble if
> I
> was lying - that I could take it all back. I couldn't. It was all true.
> But
> sexual abuse claims against the powerful stall more easily. There were
> experts willing to attack my credibility. There were doctors willing to
> gaslight an abused child.
> After a custody hearing denied my father visitation rights, my mother
> declined to pursue criminal charges, despite findings of probable cause by
> the State of Connecticut - due to, in the words of the prosecutor, the
> fragility of the "child victim." Woody Allen was never convicted of any
> crime. That he got away with what he did to me haunted me as I grew up. I
> was stricken with guilt that I had allowed him to be near other little
> girls. I was terrified of being touched by men. I developed an eating
> disorder. I began cutting myself. That torment was made worse by
> Hollywood.
> All but a precious few (my heroes) turned a blind eye. Most found it
> easier
> to accept the ambiguity, to say, "who can say what happened," to pretend
> that nothing was wrong. Actors praised him at awards shows. Networks put
> him
> on TV. Critics put him in magazines. Each time I saw my abuser's face - on
> a
> poster, on a t-shirt, on television - I could only hide my panic until I
> found a place to be alone and fall apart.
> Last week, Woody Allen was nominated for his latest Oscar. But this time,
> I
> refuse to fall apart. For so long, Woody Allen's acceptance silenced me.
> It
> felt like a personal rebuke, like the awards and accolades were a way to
> tell me to shut up and go away. But the survivors of sexual abuse who have
> reached out to me - to support me and to share their fears of coming
> forward, of being called a liar, of being told their memories aren't their
> memories - have given me a reason to not be silent, if only so others know
> that they don't have to be silent either.
> Today, I consider myself lucky. I am happily married. I have the support
> of
> my amazing brothers and sisters. I have a mother who found within herself
> a
> well of fortitude that saved us from the chaos a predator brought into our
> home.
> But others are still scared, vulnerable, and struggling for the courage to
> tell the truth. The message that Hollywood sends matters for them.
> What if it had been your child, Cate Blanchett? Louis CK? Alec Baldwin?
> What
> if it had been you, Emma Stone? Or you, Scarlett Johansson? You knew me
> when
> I was a little girl, Diane Keaton. Have you forgotten me?
> Woody Allen is a living testament to the way our society fails the
> survivors
> of sexual assault and abuse.
> So imagine your seven-year-old daughter being led into an attic by Woody
> Allen. Imagine she spends a lifetime stricken with nausea at the mention
> of
> his name. Imagine a world that celebrates her tormenter.
> Are you imagining that? Now, what's your favorite Woody Allen movie?
> An Open Letter From Dylan Farrow
> By DYLAN FARROW
> Frances SilverDylan Farrow
> (A note from Nicholas Kristof: In 1993, accusations that Woody Allen had
> abused his adoptive daughter, Dylan Farrow, filled the headlines, part of
> a
> sensational story about the celebrity split between Allen and his
> girlfriend, Mia Farrow. This is a case that has been written about
> endlessly, but this is the first time that Dylan Farrow herself has
> written
> about it in public. It's important to note that Woody Allen was never
> prosecuted in this case and has consistently denied wrongdoing; he
> deserves
> the presumption of innocence. So why publish an account of an old case on
> my
> blog? Partly because the Golden Globe lifetime achievement award to Allen
> ignited a debate about the propriety of the award. Partly because the root
> issue here isn't celebrity but sex abuse. And partly because countless
> people on all sides have written passionately about these events, but we
> haven't fully heard from the young woman who was at the heart of them.
> I've
> written a column about this, but it's time for the world to hear Dylan's
> story in her own words.)
> What's your favorite Woody Allen movie? Before you answer, you should
> know:
> when I was seven years old, Woody Allen took me by the hand and led me
> into
> a dim, closet-like attic on the second floor of our house. He told me to
> lay
> on my stomach and play with my brother's electric train set. Then he
> sexually assaulted me. He talked to me while he did it, whispering that I
> was a good girl, that this was our secret, promising that we'd go to Paris
> and I'd be a star in his movies. I remember staring at that toy train,
> focusing on it as it traveled in its circle around the attic. To this day,
> I
> find it difficult to look at toy trains.
> For as long as I could remember, my father had been doing things to me
> that
> I didn't like. I didn't like how often he would take me away from my mom,
> siblings and friends to be alone with him. I didn't like it when he would
> stick his thumb in my mouth. I didn't like it when I had to get in bed
> with
> him under the sheets when he was in his underwear. I didn't like it when
> he
> would place his head in my naked lap and breathe in and breathe out. I
> would
> hide under beds or lock myself in the bathroom to avoid these encounters,
> but he always found me. These things happened so often, so routinely, so
> skillfully hidden from a mother that would have protected me had she
> known,
> that I thought it was normal. I thought this was how fathers doted on
> their
> daughters. But what he did to me in the attic felt different. I couldn't
> keep the secret anymore.
>
> When I asked my mother if her dad did to her what Woody Allen did to me, I
> honestly did not know the answer. I also didn't know the firestorm it
> would
> trigger. I didn't know that my father would use his sexual relationship
> with
> my sister to cover up the abuse he inflicted on me. I didn't know that he
> would accuse my mother of planting the abuse in my head and call her a
> liar
> for defending me. I didn't know that I would be made to recount my story
> over and over again, to doctor after doctor, pushed to see if I'd admit I
> was lying as part of a legal battle I couldn't possibly understand. At one
> point, my mother sat me down and told me that I wouldn't be in trouble if
> I
> was lying - that I could take it all back. I couldn't. It was all true.
> But
> sexual abuse claims against the powerful stall more easily. There were
> experts willing to attack my credibility. There were doctors willing to
> gaslight an abused child.
> After a custody hearing denied my father visitation rights, my mother
> declined to pursue criminal charges, despite findings of probable cause by
> the State of Connecticut - due to, in the words of the prosecutor, the
> fragility of the "child victim." Woody Allen was never convicted of any
> crime. That he got away with what he did to me haunted me as I grew up. I
> was stricken with guilt that I had allowed him to be near other little
> girls. I was terrified of being touched by men. I developed an eating
> disorder. I began cutting myself. That torment was made worse by
> Hollywood.
> All but a precious few (my heroes) turned a blind eye. Most found it
> easier
> to accept the ambiguity, to say, "who can say what happened," to pretend
> that nothing was wrong. Actors praised him at awards shows. Networks put
> him
> on TV. Critics put him in magazines. Each time I saw my abuser's face - on
> a
> poster, on a t-shirt, on television - I could only hide my panic until I
> found a place to be alone and fall apart.
> Last week, Woody Allen was nominated for his latest Oscar. But this time,
> I
> refuse to fall apart. For so long, Woody Allen's acceptance silenced me.
> It
> felt like a personal rebuke, like the awards and accolades were a way to
> tell me to shut up and go away. But the survivors of sexual abuse who have
> reached out to me - to support me and to share their fears of coming
> forward, of being called a liar, of being told their memories aren't their
> memories - have given me a reason to not be silent, if only so others know
> that they don't have to be silent either.
> Today, I consider myself lucky. I am happily married. I have the support
> of
> my amazing brothers and sisters. I have a mother who found within herself
> a
> well of fortitude that saved us from the chaos a predator brought into our
> home.
> But others are still scared, vulnerable, and struggling for the courage to
> tell the truth. The message that Hollywood sends matters for them.
> What if it had been your child, Cate Blanchett? Louis CK? Alec Baldwin?
> What
> if it had been you, Emma Stone? Or you, Scarlett Johansson? You knew me
> when
> I was a little girl, Diane Keaton. Have you forgotten me?
> Woody Allen is a living testament to the way our society fails the
> survivors
> of sexual assault and abuse.
> So imagine your seven-year-old daughter being led into an attic by Woody
> Allen. Imagine she spends a lifetime stricken with nausea at the mention
> of
> his name. Imagine a world that celebrates her tormenter.
> Are you imagining that? Now, what's your favorite Woody Allen movie?
>
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> Blind-Democracy mailing list
> Blind-Democracy@octothorp.org
> http://www.octothorp.org/mailman/listinfo/blind-democracy

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