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Dear Rabbi, you could have stopped my abuse! Dear Rabbi,  I write to you with a mixture of extreme pain, anguish and anger. Where were you? What were you thinking? Where was your intuition? I knew you realized something was amiss because you made a face when you came into my dorm room and saw my abuser sitting on my bed. But it […]

Dear Rabbi, you could have stopped my abuse!

Dear Rabbi, 

I write to you with a mixture of extreme pain, anguish and anger. Where were you? What were you thinking? Where was your intuition? I knew you realized something was amiss because you made a face when you came into my dorm room and saw my abuser sitting on my bed. But it started and ended with a “nuuuu”. 

I was being burned alive by a fiery abuser and when you saw me in flames, all you said was “nuuuu”. Why didn’t you call me over and ask me if everything was okay? Why didn’t you prod just a bit? Why didn’t you ask me why he was on my bed? Why didn’t you attempt to extinguish my flames?

I know the answer, which makes me sick with disgust when I think about it. You didn’t want to dig too much. You were afraid to uncover something. You were too weak to face the fact that you might be having “that thing that doesn’t happen by us” in your own school. 

Well, because of your actions or rather non-actions, this horrible predator continued his sickly behaviors for many years. You had a chance to stop it early enough before he would burn me alive and you didn’t. It makes me mad. It makes me sad for the other boys who you are ignoring and are in the middle of being abused. 

And so, my respect for you and for so many others like you, that could’ve stopped it, is at zero. I don’t respect you in any shape or form. I hate you and I have a very hard time forgiving you. 

No, I don’t think I will go after you in court and make a lawsuit against you. The very crooked system will probably cause me to lose in court and even if I win, I don’t want you to think that money will buy my life back. Money won’t buy the years that were stolen from me. Money won’t take away my flashbacks and nightmares. Money won’t take away my panic attacks. 

I plead with you, please open your eyes, and be brave enough to see what you don’t want to see. Be strong enough to believe what you don’t want to believe. Be caring enough to care about what you don’t want to care about. You didn’t save me but you still have a chance to save others. You can save other people’s lives. What happened to me is over but if you open your eyes and save even one victim, I’ll forgive you. 

-A former student

Posted in media, news-articles, op-eds, survivors-letters.


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