Category Archives: OSPI

Dear Committee Members…

08 Wednesday Feb 2017

Posted by in bruce huntoon, Justice, OSPI, Uncategorized, Vision

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Today, at 3:30pm, the Washington State House Appropriations Committee will review HB 1155 — the bill to remove the statute of limitations on felony sex crimes in Washington state.

As many readers know, last month, I testified in Olympia before the House Public Safety Committee, along with fellow survivors that I’m blessed to call friends. The bill made it out of that committee with flying colors, and was referred to Appropriations, where — frankly — all bills get sent.

SO… this is a big, important step, and farther than we got when we tried to pass this legislation last year. I’m celebrating that, for sure! BUT… we are in the middle of a massive winter storm. Mountain passes are closed without warning, or simply unsafe to travel. I will not be able to make it to Olympia to deliver my testimony in person.

However, my local representative is on the Appropriations Committee, and I talked to his legislative assistant, who assured me that if I sent my testimony by letter — along with the letters of others who would like their testimonies heard — he would ensure the committee members received them.

Humbly, this is what I am sending:

Thank you Chairman, and committee members, for considering my letter today.

Did any of you grow up in a small town? I did, too. My friends and I listened to the same music, shopped at the same stores… And, we were sexually abused by the same man.

I was 10, and in sixth grade. He’d have me work on projects for him at a computer terminal, where he would place his hands on me, rub his genitals across my back, and massage my shoulders and my breasts. When I told him to stop, he told me he was just showing me how much he appreciated me. Often, my two best friends were stationed on either side of me, and he would “appreciate” us, each in turn.

It made us feel dirty and ashamed, and eventually, one of my friends told the principal. I told my mom. My other friend told her mom. We TOLD, but it didn’t stop.

The investigation — years later — was handled through the school district, then through the Office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction (OSPI). Even in the end, after OSPI determined he’d sexually abused children over nearly 20 years, he wasn’t charged. Even then, system failed us. We had no legal advocates, and we weren’t offered services or representation.

31 years after abusing me, he still lives in my hometown. He doesn’t have to register as a sex offender, even though OSPI revoked his teaching certificate FOR sexual abuse. He still works with children, taking youth in swimsuits out on his boat during the summer for church youth groups, and passing out candy to kids during community events.

By the time I was strong enough — through counseling and support — to tell my story again, it was too late. In 2013, the statute of limitations (SOL) was lengthened, but it was still too late for me, and my fellow victims.

Today, I blog about my experience. Last year, after testifying before the House Public Safety Committee, I used his name — Bruce Huntoon. I began receiving messages from even more of his victims who said, “It happened to me, too.” A remarkable thing happened, as a result of going public… I found my tribe. That is, we found each other. Several of us were witnesses to each other’s molestation, and as we shared our memories, it validated what we’ve always known — we didn’t remember wrong. We didn’t misunderstand. Also, we learned we weren’t alone, and there were so many more of us.

Not one of us understood the effects of the abuse — literally at the hands of our teacher — until it was too late. I mean, the school investigated, and OSPI investigated, and they surely had our protection as a priority, right? We left it in the hands of the system to protect us, and to provide justice, but it never came. We waited, ashamed, and suffering from wounds we couldn’t even identify — some that would take years to fully manifest — waiting on an arrest that would never come.

We spent years just… Trying to survive. In our twenties and thirties, maybe we gained some footing, but most of us weren’t able to connect the dots until much later. Some of us still haven’t.

I’m 41. I’m married, the mom to eight children — six of them girls. My husband… he’s supportive, but… Our marriage suffers. Our intimacy suffers. I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD as a result of what my teacher did, and I suffer from autoimmune disorders (common in sexual abuse survivors at an astonishing rate — read some of my fellow survivors’ stories… they have them, too).

Some nights, he hardly sleeps at all, because my nightmares cause me to be so restless. I wake up screaming, or I wake up afraid to move, speak, or be touched.

It may be too late for justice for me. It may be too late for some of my friends, who haven’t yet journeyed far enough to speak out. Some are battling for their lives after years of shame and stress, but several did submit letters for your consideration — one who was terrorized and harassed by this man as recently as two years ago. Add us up… I’m giving you letters from just a few. Many more are named in the Order of Revocation, which I am attaching separately. The average pedophile molests 260 children during his lifetime. How many NEVER told about this ONE man?

It may be too late for the children named, and not named, in the findings from OSPI, but please…. Don’t let it be too late for one more child.

For more about my story, visit my blog at barbaricYAWPgirl.com.

Thank you for your commitment to full consideration of HB 1155. Victims in Washington state need to know that when they are strong enough to tell, there will still be hope… and perpetrators in Washington state need to know they will never be safe from prosecution for their horrific crimes.

There is no SOL for murder in our state, and it’s no coincidence that many sexual abuse victims and advocates draw a parallel to sex crimes, calling it a “murder of the soul.” The damage of sexual abuse stays with us FOREVER. We can’t erase it, fully heal it, or make it go away. It leaves scars on our bodies, on our spirits, and on our souls. It affects our loved ones, our partners, and our children.

How can we — as a society — tolerate the idea that if a person sexually abuses a child, if that criminal can “wait it out,” or if they’ve injured, threatened, or intimidated their victims enough to prevent them from speaking out, they should be safe from prosecution?

We shouldn’t, and we won’t.

My tribe and I will keep fighting for this legislation, even if it doesn’t pass this year. We will keep telling our stories, and we will collect even more along the way. We’ll tell, over and over and over again… until we are SEEN as the survivors we are, HEARD as the survivors we are, and VICTORIOUS in protecting every other survivor that comes after us.

Please, don’t make us return next year. Rather, let us get to the important work of helping others to find their voices and to heal. We are counting on you to get HB 1155 to the House floor for a vote, where its strong bipartisan roots can take hold, and flourish into something necessary for justice, and healing for our wounded.

Very truly yours,

Christina-Marie Wright

I also had the honor, and the privilege, of including letters from several of my sister survivors, and I think they are SO INCREDIBLY FREAKING BRAVE and heroic for writing them! I’m moved to tears by the pride I have to stand alongside them, and many days, I don’t feel worthy of them.

I hate being so far away. I don’t know if my words carry the same weight on paper, as in person. I won’t be able to read the body language of the committee members. I feel like I’m resorting to scattershot advocacy… even though, deep down, I know what we have done will be enough. It will be enough for God’s plan, His justice, His time. This was my part, at this time, this moment, right now.

We’d love your prayers, y’all.

 

Before I Lose My Nerve

31 Sunday Jan 2016

Posted by in Justice, OSPI, Vision

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I’m asking all of you to hold me accountable. There’s this thing — this very big thing — on my “bucket list.”

I keep an online bucket list at wakeuplist.com, and it contains all sorts of seemingly mundane, but important-to-me tasks, along with pie-in-the-sky dreams and aspirations.

Of all of them, none is more meaningful than this one:

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Remove the criminal Statute of Limitations on childhood sexual abuse in my state.

Here’s why it matters, for people like me:

The “old” statutes required that a person like me, who has been a victim of childhood sexual abuse, had only until her/his 21st birthday to report the abuse, and have a chance at prosecution of their abuser.

Of course, there were exceptions.

What if the person didn’t remember until after that, because they’d repressed it? Well, they’d have until three years after they remembered, in that case.

What if they remembered, but they didn’t understand how it affected them (in intimacy, child-rearing, mental health or other ways) until much later?

Well, they’d have until three years after they understood to bring their story forward.

None of these exceptions helped me, personally, and they didn’t help the students who were molested alongside me, because many of us fought to survive through our twenties, and spent our thirties trying to gain some footing, and — if we figured out how deeply our abuse affected us — we spent years trying to get our lives together, and by the time we even had time to think, “You know, that man shouldn’t be walking the streets, free to reoffend…” It was too late.

In 2013, the law changed in our state to sort of provide a catch-all, built-in, extra time padding, which allowed charges to be brought until the victim’s 30th birthday.

Progress, for sure, but again… Too late.

So, now… Now, there is a bill, sponsored by Representative Griffey and others in Washington state, which would remove the statute of limitations on (among other crimes) childhood sexual abuse.

On Tuesday morning, it goes before the House Public Safety Committee.

I will be there to testify.

I will be there to speak, for three minutes, about my story, and the stories of others who experienced abuse, literally at the hands of our teacher.

The Capitol is right across the street from the Office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction (OSPI). The committee members — if they chose to do so — could walk across the street, ask for the file on my teacher, and read for themselves what he is affirmed to have done.

I will use his name.

I will not offer him anonymity.

I will testify in the most effective way I know how, and I will pray.

I will pray this bill gets out of committee, and I will pray it gets bi-partisan support and becomes law.

I will pray those voting see the TRUE cost of not passing the bill, and not worry that passing it will create an expensive, legal free-for-all judicial overload.

And then… I will celebrate the bill’s passage. I will check this item off my bucket list, and I will thank God for the vision he has provided.

I just thought I should tell you all, before I chicken out.

Please pray for me, and for the brave souls who will join me on Tuesday.

We have a lot of work to do.

My Abuser is Like Lord Voldemort

30 Saturday Jan 2016

Posted by in OSPI, Vision

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He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

You-Know-Who

The Dark Lord…

I must confess. I’ve never read the Harry Potter books. (I watched the movies, though! Surely, that must count for something?)

With my greatest apologies to J.K. Rowling, I have to admit that I never understood the reluctance of the characters in the Potter movie franchise to say the name of Lord Voldemort.

What’s the big deal? Why won’t anyone say his name?

For the Death Eaters, maybe it’s a form of reverence, like how my Jewish friends won’t say or write “God” in full.

But for everyone else? What gives?

As Professor Minerva McGonagall points out in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows: Part 2, “…his name is Voldemort, so you might as well use it. He’s going to try to kill you, either way.”

It’s unreasonable that a name would have so much power.

Except… It’s not. It’s not really unreasonable that a single name can hold the power of destruction.

My abuser has “code names,” too, and I didn’t really think about it until tonight.

My abuser, for starters.

The man who hurt me.

HIM. (As in, “I had a nightmare about HIM last night.”)

That #*^!?*% ?%^~*#! (Mr. Wright’s name for him.)

Not saying his name doesn’t change what he did.

Keeping silent about who he is (although many have contacted me to say they know exactly who he is, based upon details — some are fellow victims, some are community members who “knew, even back then,” and some are people who associate with him now) doesn’t change my struggles and fears.

Protecting his name, when it seems “everyone” already knows, and there are public documents affirming that he sexually abused children… What purpose does it serve?

We live in a world gone wild for sensationalism. Why not just have it out? Why not plaster his name across social media, and the interwebs?

On Tuesday, I will say it.

I will say it out loud, and I will say it to a group of people who need to hear it. I will say it to people who can — if so inclined, literally walk across the street, pull out a file, and verify the truth.

“His name is _____ _______, so you might as well use it. He’s going to haunt you, either way.”

Small Victories, Take TWO

08 Thursday Jan 2015

Posted by in bruce huntoon, manson school district, OSPI, Victory

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Remember back in December of 2013, when I became aware that the full, un-redacted Findings of Fact and Order on Revocation of my abuser’s teaching certificate had been posted online, containing full names of the victims?

Remember how I had to call the Office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction (OSPI) and demand that they take it down, and leave it down, until it was properly redacted?

Remember my outrage at how his victims were re-victimized by being publicly and digitally linked to him through a short Google search?

Remember my celebration at the small victory when it was taken down?

Imagine my surprise when, on December 4th of 2014 — almost an entire year later — it came to my attention that the document was back online, and only PARTIALLY redacted. Unbelievably, it still contained the full names of a handful of minor victims.

So, I contacted OSPI… AGAIN.

Here’s how it all went down, in a nutshell:

1. In 1985-86, at least two classmates and I were molested by our teacher in the Manson School District.

2. In 1991, we — along with several other victims — were a part of an investigation by OSPI. As it turns out, the first reported sexual abuse dated back to 1977 with this particular teacher, and there were dozens of victims. No one seems to know why he was allowed to continue to teach for all those years, since he was counseled by the administration on several occasions about his actions, but… I digress.

3. After lengthy appeals, he finally had his certificate revoked in 2001.

4. Media reports indicate that Chelan County Sheriff’s Office looked into at least some of the incidents, but prosecutors declined to — ahem — prosecute, which is what I think they’re supposed to do? Anyway, this former teacher doesn’t have to register as a sex offender.

5. In December of 2013, I learned that the final order on this teacher’s revocation was posted — and had been for years — on the OSPI website. It was un-redacted, and contained the full names of minor victims. NOT COOL.

6. I (along with a sister survivor) contacted OSPI and demanded that the document be removed, as it did not follow protocol for protecting the identities of minor victims.

7. After a brief and condescending objection from the OSPI employee I spoke with (She wanted to know exactly WHO I was, and WHAT my interest was in the case — I told her I was a victim, and a blogger, and she demanded to know my name, which is already in their file from my Public Records Request, and my blog address. I told her I’m Google-able, since I’m an author, and I’m sure she’d be able to locate the blog without my help. She wasn’t pleased.), I was assured it would be removed. It eventually was.

8. Almost a full year later to the day, in December of 2014, I learned the document had returned to the website, and was only partially redacted, so several of the minor victims’ names remained. OUTRAGE!

9. I called OSPI — again — and spoke with a man who wanted to challenge whether or not the victims — described as fifth-, sixth-, and eighth-graders — were “ACTUALLY MINORS” at the time. Ummmm… Yeah. I’m pretty sure they were. After a heated discussion (and me saying, “Are you kidding me?!” more than once), he left me a voicemail stating it would be taken down again. It was.

10. Then, I contacted both Congressman Dave Reichert’s office, and state Representative Cary Condotta’s, to ask them both to look into what federal and state statutes are in place to prevent the publication of minor victims. Their respective legislative assistants are awesome, by the way.

11. On December 10, 2014, I got a call from Representative Condotta’s assistant, telling me he’d been in contact with the lead for Professional Standards at OSPI, and not only are they making darn sure this time the document would be properly taken care of, but they are ALSO hiring a legal assistant specifically for the purpose of reviewing all the existing documents which also may be effected by the clearly lame oversight at OSPI.
I’ve held onto this post for a while, to ensure that when the document was reposted, it was done so with the proper redactions. I see that it has been, so…

Please join me in celebrating a small victory for the privacy of minor victims of sex abuse in Washington state, for the second — and I hope LAST — time.

Small Victories and the Battle Ahead

26 Thursday Dec 2013

Posted by in OSPI, Victory

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I recently shared my story, with the intent to give others hope, and to give a voice to those who also suffered at the hands of my abuser, only to not be heard in the ways it mattered.

While some thought I should have “called out” the man who abused me, and others, I was protective in writing my story… Not to protect him, but to protect other victims.

You see, the Office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction (OSPI) of Washington state made a grave error, twelve years ago.

When a teacher loses the legal right to teach in my state, that information is posted on the Disciplinary Actions page of OSPI’s website. That is a good practice, as far as I’m concerned, because it establishes, for the public, a record of that action.

Normally, as far as I can tell from looking at other disciplinary records, the Findings of Fact and Conclusions of Law are redacted to remove the names of minor victims before being attached to the Order of Revocation and posted to the website.

In my teacher’s case, the “normal” procedure wasn’t followed.

Instead, the full Findings and Conclusions were attached to the Order — including the FULL NAMES OF THE MINOR VICTIMS.

A Google search for my teacher’s name turned up, as the first result, that document, exposing the names of many (not all; just a select few, plucked from the investigative file) of his victims.

Dear Readers, I could not risk exposing these precious individuals to re-victimization or further pain by dragging their names into a public forum, for anyone who had access to the internet.

So, I played it vague, and contacted as many named victims as I could, letting them know my story had gone public, asking their forgiveness for not being strong enough to stand with them when I was asked to testify, and alerting them to the fact that their full names were out there, on the internet, associated with their victimization at this man’s hands.

One individual told me she was aware. She had, over the years, done internet searches for our abuser, trying to “keep tabs” on him, to learn whether he was still alive, whether he’d faced any consequences, whether he still had access to children… I understood her curiosity all too well. I, too, had attempted to learn as much as possible about him.

She’d seen the document, and shared more of her story with me, over the phone. I cried with her, and prayed with her.

Another individual was completely blindsided. Learning her name was on the internet as part of the Order of Revocation stirred up in her panic, alarm, fear, and a deep sense of betrayal.

She’d been promised by investigators that her testimony and name would never be made public, and it was a condition of her testifying.

Again, she had been failed by the very people who were supposed to protect her.

This woman was failed by her teacher (we all were), by fellow teachers who stood by and allowed — even enabled — his cruel behavior, and by the school administrators, who were — apparently — complicit in her abuse.

And then, OSPI — the “good guys” who swooped in to make sure he would never teach again — they failed her, too. They posted her name and story, in direct opposition to the promises she’d been made in exchange for her testimony.

I was outraged, with her, and for her.

I knew the fear associated with speaking out. In fact, my fear was so great that I had failed to do so.

So… She and I got on the phone with OSPI. We demanded the document be removed. We refused to listen to excuses about how it got there, how it was overlooked for twelve years, and how it remained unredacted, after all these years.

We didn’t play into the fishing expedition performed by the OSPI rep to find out how deep their liability might run. We dug our heels in, and demanded it be removed.

Finally, it came down.

If nothing else was gained by my story going public, I will take this small victory. No longer will the innocent risk re-victimization through being “advertised” as his victims.

Praise The Lord for this small — but necessary — battle victory!

So… I’m sure the question I will face next will be, “Will you name him, now?”

I don’t know. I can’t promise that I will. What I can promise is to pray about it.

I don’t want to confuse speaking out for the sake of the voiceless with my own personal revenge, or a misled crusade for justice.

I don’t want to lose the focus on the larger problem of sexual exploitation by targeting one man.

When, and if, I decide to name him, y’all will be among the first to know. My suspicion is that he has already read my story. If that is the case, I hope he becomes convicted before The Lord, and repents with sincerity.

I fight each day to not let resentment and hatred overrun my life. I’m not yet strong enough to forgive, though I know it’s critical to my healing.

Perhaps the largest battle — for me — lies ahead, as I fight my own heart to find the strength to forgive.