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"My Hope is gone!"
Maya sat in stunned disbelief as the judge sentenced her to 15 years in prison. Her crime was unthinkable and repulsive: aggravated child battery. The community and criminal justice system was justifiably incensed when her small child was found unresponsive in her crib. Testing revealed that the child had been struck repeatedly and had sustained permanent brain damage. As the spectators and media filed out of the courtroom, there was a sense of relief that the system had worked; a small child had been protected and her aggressor was behind bars.
But had justice been served? Was the whole story heard in the courtroom? Was the person responsible for the crime the one being punished?
“My dad was a drunk and Mom was a crack addict. When I was five, my dad began having sex with me; I did not know that this was not normal; didn’t all dads have sex with their little girls? Child Protective Services came to our house several times and questioned me; I guess some of my teachers called them because of the bruises I frequently had. My mom told me that if I didn’t tell them that everything was fine, she would tell them what I did with my dad and they would put me in jail. I was always glad when they left.
“When I was 17, I married an older man just to get away from home. Besides Norm loved me and gave me lots of presents. He promised to always be there for me and to love me. On my honeymoon, he changed and began to beat me. Norm was addicted to cocaine and early in our marriage encouraged me to try it. I had begun smoking weed when I was 12; it offered me an escape from the craziness of life at home and a way to numb the emotional pain I felt. So it was easy to move to snorting coke and I found that when I was high, life wasn’t so bad, in fact, it was pretty wonderful.
“When I had my baby, I was ecstatic! I had always wanted to be a mom and loved the feel of my baby nestled against me. I named her Hope and I promised her that I would always be there for her to protect her, to love her. But Norm had a temper and hated it when she cried. I knew he had spent time in prison and that the charge involved hurting a child so I worked extra hard to keep the baby quiet so Norm would leave her alone.
“The night that Hope was hurt will forever be engraved in my memory. Norm was sleeping off a high and Hope had been really fussy because she was teething. She finally had gone to sleep when my sister called and insisted that I come get her; my dad was on a drunk and she was tired and needed a place to crash. I was only gone 10 minutes and Hope was still sleeping like an angel when I got back. I fell into bed, exhausted from the long day.
“When I woke up several hours later, I realized that Hope had slept through the night so went to check on her. She would not wake up so I panicked and called 911. At the emergency room the doctor asked me repeatedly what had happened to Hope. I kept telling them my story but was really scared when a police officer walked in the room. The officer questioned me and when Norm arrived asked him some questions as well. They took us both to the police station. Throughout the many hours of questioning, I kept asking about my baby and could not understand why they would not let me go back to the hospital to be with her. I knew she was scared and wanted her mommy. I got to the point that I would tell them anything they wanted to hear in order to get back to my baby.
“Late the next day, the officer told me that I was being charged with aggravated child battery. I was fingerprinted and processed into the jail. I was stunned! When Norm came to see me that first week, he whispered into the phone that it would be better for me to take the fall since any sentence I got would be less than he would get. I was confused—why should I accept responsibility for what they say happened to my baby girl? And what did happen?
“Month after month I sat in a cell waiting for my case to be processed. I could not post bond because I didn’t have the kind of money the judge set and Norm was unwilling to help me. The State’s Attorney offered me a plea: admit that I had used violence against my Hope and the sentence would be 15 years. If I went to trial, the state would ask for the maximum sentence the law afforded: 25 years in prison. I struggled with the decision because I did not want to admit to something I did not do but finally decided that it was the only option I had if I wanted to get back to Hope. So I pled guilty and was sentenced to 15 years. Six months later, my parental rights were terminated.
“I never knew that what happened to me as a child and later as a wife was abuse. For me, this was normal; this was how families do life. I did not know that I deserved better or that I had choices. I did not know that I was a victim of domestic violence. I thought that it was only domestic violence when someone died. I wish I had known that I had options; that there were people who would help me. I did not know. ”
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