Religious of integrity need support during abuse crisis

In the early 1990s appalling stories of child abuse in religious-run residential homes began to emerge, writes Florence Horsman…

In the early 1990s appalling stories of child abuse in religious-run residential homes began to emerge, writes Florence Horsman Hogan.

Along with the rest of Irish society I listened with growing horror to the stories of beatings, starvation, physical and sexual abuse that these unfortunate children had suffered.

My interest was personal, as well as humanitarian; I too had been in a home. The only child of a 48-year-old mother who suffered from mental illness, and an alcoholic father, the Sisters of Mercy came to my rescue when I was found dying of starvation at six weeks old. The home was closed when I was five and there were many more occasions when the sisters in the community rescued me after being returned to my parents.

I felt so sorry for the sisters I knew. Their years of washing, cooking, cleaning and fundraising to make our lives that bit more bearable, were now tarnished. But, if in their suffering and the reflected shame of the few abusers, healing was provided, then so be it.

READ MORE

By 2002, the abuse stories still continued - with increasing vitriol, and the religious seemed to have become fair game for any allegation.

Unsubstantiated stories became financially beneficial as documentaries and books were presented to an unsuspecting public as fact.

After seeing some ex-pupils come out in defence of their own residential homes, I put my story out also. Many of us made contact with each other, and feeling the carers we knew needed support, decided to form a cohesive group.

With the collective experience of 90 of us from 15 different homes - some resident until 18-years-old - Let Our Voices Emerge (LOVE) was born.

Our sole aim was to support the religious of integrity through the abuse crisis, while the suffering of those genuinely abused was being vindicated.

Stories of being well fed and clothed, fighting over comics, toys and sweets, hiding from the bullies in the older groups and minding the children in the younger groups started to emerge. Locals in the vicinity of the homes contacted us to tell of a time when Irish society suffered hunger and poverty as the norm, yet the "residential" children looked better cared for than most.

Foster parents told of taking children out for holidays and weekends, and there were tales of the knitting, sewing and Rosary bead classes where we were taught skills many of us didn't have.

Our carers appeared to have done their best to make up for the one thing no-one could give us - the unconditional love of a parent.

Over a number of weeks last autumn we began to put the other side of the institutional care story to the public. And, whilst not wishing to deny anyone else's truth, we tried to show that the general conditions of our homes were much better than generally perceived, and that the level and scale of the abuse was much lower than previously portrayed.

When, through talking to each other, we realised there were some ex-pupils from the homes, knowingly naming innocent religious as their abusers in order to claim compensation from the State, we were among those who drew the Irish public's attention to this. Indeed, one claimant took the very brave step of openly admitting to the media that he had falsely alleged abuse.

Having succeeded in persuading the Christian Brothers to back us up with a statement last October, there was uproar from some journalists and victim support groups. Surely, they claimed, we were being funded by the religious orders or at least religious fanatics.

(This amused me personally as my background was mainly in the Church of Ireland ethos).

It seemed no-one in this day and age could support the religious orders out of basic humanity and gratitude?

Having made our point with that autumn campaign we intended to leave well enough alone as by the end of this month, personal finances would have run out, and the emotional stress of a continuing battle was taking its toll.

However over 30 lay people - teachers, childcare workers and foster parents - had been in contact with us towards the end of last year claiming false allegations had been made against them by people who had been in residential care.

There were stories of burnt-out houses, poison-pen letters, lost jobs, and social isolation - their sentences before ever going to court.

On the basis of the belief that an accused person is innocent until proven guilty, LOVE decided to provide support for these people too.

For now we are going to rely on donations from the public to sustain our efforts and, if it is possible for us to keep going, it will be our intention to continue to:

a) support religious of integrity through the current abuse crisis;

b) support all those claiming false allegations have been made against them, until they are proven guilty/innocent.

Florence Horsman Hogan and Mary Walshe are co-founders of LOVE. Phone: 086-8762148/087-6470963. Email:Voicesemerge@hotmail.com