be able to quite make out what Alice Ponds is saying on TV or how Cindy and Paul and Mom are reacting. Iâm able to keep my spirit in my body, but for the first ten minutes of the program my mouth is blessed by Frito-Lay while my brain is a short-circuiting wad of useless electrical static.
When my seizure finally passes and Iâm able to focus again, I realize that Alice has asked Dad a question. In fact sheâs still in the middle of that question when Dad cuts her off.
âYouâre right, Alice,â Dad interrupts in a soft but firm voice. âI do love my son Shawn. I love all three of my children. I think itâs impossible for others to judge whether one person loves another or not. We only know in our own hearts what we feel. Whether people believe I love my son makes little difference to me. I love Shawn. I know that Earl Detraux loved his child, Colin, too.â
For an instant, the audience seems stunned. They donât know whether to applaud or throw hand grenades. As the camera scans their faces, many of them look at Alice for some kind of hint which way they should go. At first Alice is not much help; she looks as surprised as they do.
Quickly, though, Alice recovers, a serious and heavy shortness to her tone. âYou think that Earl Detraux, who murdered little Colin Detraux, loved his child? You honestly believe that a parent can kill a baby in the name of love?â
Now the audience knows what to do. They hoot, they howl, they bark like dogs.
But before Alice can argue any more with him, Dad begins to speak again. âEverybody wants to love their kids,â he says, his voice soft, reassuring. âNobody sets out to be a bad parent.â Aliceâs audience begins to quiet down; theyâre like dumb beasts, hypnotized by the gentle sound of Dadâs voice. âYet thousands of children are hurt every year by their parents, parents who behave as though they hate their kids.â
The camera pans the audience. Literally dozens of people, tiny heads on tiny bodies, nod in agreement.
Dad has them. âI really believe that everybody in this room loves their children, and that everybody who is not yet a parent but will be someday will love their children too. But has anyone here ever spent months or years of your lives watching your child suffer the most horrifying, excruciating torture imaginable? Have you ever wondered if a definition of love might not include taking responsibility for someone who cannot take responsibility for his or her self?â
The audience is now dead quiet, staring at Dad and listening. Dad takes a long, slow breath, the first one heâs had since he started talking. He looks out into the audience as if quietly daring anyone to contradict him.
Dad goes on. âWe all know, all of us who are parents, that sometimes we hurt our children out of love. We know that telling a child ânoâ when that child is desperate to hear âyesâ causes sadness. But when that âyesâ could cause them harm or endanger them, a good parent takes responsibility by saying âno,â regardless of how upset our child might feelââ
Alice attempts to interrupt. âI thinkââ
Dad ignores her: âThe point is that we do have to make hard choices every day to be good parents, to truly take responsibility for our children. If we love them enough, we say âno,â we let them feel their hurt or sadness or rage, but we stand firm and do what has to be done.â
The audience begins to applaud in spite of itself. Itâs as if they canât stop themselves from applauding, from agreeing with something that they donât quite understand, but that makes too much sense to ignore.
Alice turns to a woman in the audience to let her ask a question. The woman is short and fat and kind of crazy-looking. âDonât you think that Detraux is just a stupid killer? Donât you think that he deserved
When my seizure finally passes and Iâm able to focus again, I realize that Alice has asked Dad a question. In fact sheâs still in the middle of that question when Dad cuts her off.
âYouâre right, Alice,â Dad interrupts in a soft but firm voice. âI do love my son Shawn. I love all three of my children. I think itâs impossible for others to judge whether one person loves another or not. We only know in our own hearts what we feel. Whether people believe I love my son makes little difference to me. I love Shawn. I know that Earl Detraux loved his child, Colin, too.â
For an instant, the audience seems stunned. They donât know whether to applaud or throw hand grenades. As the camera scans their faces, many of them look at Alice for some kind of hint which way they should go. At first Alice is not much help; she looks as surprised as they do.
Quickly, though, Alice recovers, a serious and heavy shortness to her tone. âYou think that Earl Detraux, who murdered little Colin Detraux, loved his child? You honestly believe that a parent can kill a baby in the name of love?â
Now the audience knows what to do. They hoot, they howl, they bark like dogs.
But before Alice can argue any more with him, Dad begins to speak again. âEverybody wants to love their kids,â he says, his voice soft, reassuring. âNobody sets out to be a bad parent.â Aliceâs audience begins to quiet down; theyâre like dumb beasts, hypnotized by the gentle sound of Dadâs voice. âYet thousands of children are hurt every year by their parents, parents who behave as though they hate their kids.â
The camera pans the audience. Literally dozens of people, tiny heads on tiny bodies, nod in agreement.
Dad has them. âI really believe that everybody in this room loves their children, and that everybody who is not yet a parent but will be someday will love their children too. But has anyone here ever spent months or years of your lives watching your child suffer the most horrifying, excruciating torture imaginable? Have you ever wondered if a definition of love might not include taking responsibility for someone who cannot take responsibility for his or her self?â
The audience is now dead quiet, staring at Dad and listening. Dad takes a long, slow breath, the first one heâs had since he started talking. He looks out into the audience as if quietly daring anyone to contradict him.
Dad goes on. âWe all know, all of us who are parents, that sometimes we hurt our children out of love. We know that telling a child ânoâ when that child is desperate to hear âyesâ causes sadness. But when that âyesâ could cause them harm or endanger them, a good parent takes responsibility by saying âno,â regardless of how upset our child might feelââ
Alice attempts to interrupt. âI thinkââ
Dad ignores her: âThe point is that we do have to make hard choices every day to be good parents, to truly take responsibility for our children. If we love them enough, we say âno,â we let them feel their hurt or sadness or rage, but we stand firm and do what has to be done.â
The audience begins to applaud in spite of itself. Itâs as if they canât stop themselves from applauding, from agreeing with something that they donât quite understand, but that makes too much sense to ignore.
Alice turns to a woman in the audience to let her ask a question. The woman is short and fat and kind of crazy-looking. âDonât you think that Detraux is just a stupid killer? Donât you think that he deserved
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