For a long time, I wondered whether I’d imagined it all: a slender slab of timber, approximately a metre in size, with a jagged base at one end and a rusty nail piercing its core. It likely originated from some home improvement task she had previously undertaken. Upon discovering it, she decided it fulfilled her purposes seamlessly. If we were mildly mischievous, a swift thump to our palm was the punishment; but if we were extremely troublesome, a couple of sensible cracks were ordered. Those days when her mood was sour or she was plagued by headaches were indisputably grim.
My early years in school conjure up other intense recollections: girls being violently pushed against blackboards; unsuspecting victims having their seats pulled away from them; an entire class being commanded to stand before their tables with palms outstretched, awaiting their fate; the embarrassing puddle of pee underneath my seat.
Although these seem trivial compared to the horrific stories detailed in the recent investigative report on child sexual abuse in religiously-run schools, it is worth mentioning due to its commonality. The report sheds light upon a period, stretching to the 1980s and beyond, when schools were conventionally arenas of latent aggression. Children weren’t acknowledged as sentient creatures with rights, rather, they were receptacles for the arbitrary cruelties adults chose to unleash upon them.
Gruesome things were happening to young lads in the twin schools close to mine, and to pupils across the city and the nation. The individual anecdotes in the report are too horrendous to comprehend, with their scale leaving one staggered – 2,395 single allegations of sexual abuse, affecting 308 schools and implicating 884 accused abusers. Although one cannot rank such horrors, perhaps the most horrific figure is the 590 allegations involving alleged abusers within 17 special schools. The report, comprising over 700 pages, reveals the cruel reality that the outline of locations where children were violated would exceed the word limits of this column.
Sexual abuse investigation findings: Schools were consistently the stages for horrific, seething violence.
Shockingly, the influence that the Catholic Church maintains in the educational system of Ireland is highlighted in a report outlining the utilization of religious instruction and sacraments as tools of predatory manipulation. The report elucidates how children were instigated to feel shame, with Confession exploited to foster such notions.
Following the courageous accounts of abuse by Mark and David Ryan at Blackrock, innumerable other narratives were brought to light. The figures mentioned in the report only provide a glimpse of the impending revelations. It does not feature Government-led, secular schools or include myriad victims yet to find their voice, or those who might remain silent forever. Predictions by the CSO suggest that more than 15,300 males and 26,000 females above the age of 35 would have endured sexual abuse during their school years. These statistics don’t consider non-sexual physical abuse, which the State sanctioned till 1982 and, according to the report, was “widespread, erratic, painful and normalised” in certain schools.
Naturally and logically, grave sexual offences committed against children have overshadowed the physical mistreatment. Nevertheless, acts of violence and emotional torment also constitute the dark mosaic of crimes committed against children by the State and its delegates. While clerics, priests, and nuns, facilitated by the worst of their secular assistants, might have been the frontline offenders, the State permitted it.
Following the Ryans’ revelations of abuse at Blackrock, an avalanche of other accounts emerged. Initially, women shared shocking stories of being thrashed with rounders bats and leather belts, humiliated, repeatedly belittled, and physically assaulted. A man depicted a Brother as an “aggressive, shouting, raging, relentless abuser,” who severely chastised children. Six decades later, the memories of this abuser and the inactive authorities who failed to intervene still provoke extreme anger and distress.
There may never be an official State inquiry platform where these deeply disturbing narratives can be spoken. The details of grave physical mistreatment in educational institutions, including those under religious management, are cited in the scoping inquiry’s report. The report references abuse that went beyond the then-considered legitimate corporal punishment, employing objects such as altered leather belts, timber staves and knuckle guards. There was even an account of one survivor who recalled an act of violence that he suspects resulted in a child’s death, prompting a later investigation by the police. However, these testimonials could only be listed under “other contributions” (Section C, Volume 4), as they did not fall within the official scope of the inquiry.
The report implies that the forthcoming investigation will need to employ methods such as sampling, organising hearings in divisions, or potentially a combination of both, to understand the magnitude of the sexual abuse. Simultaneously, the government warns of the necessity for a time limit on the investigation. Considering the commonplace nature of physical harm inflicted on children, the problem may simply be too immense to ever be scrutinised via a conventional interrogation. Nevertheless, an urgent need for a system to at least document the real-life experiences of the so called “reasonable chastisement” is emphasised.
Eventually, acknowledging the full range of damage done to children in Irish schools, under the indifferent watch of the omnipresent statue of the Virgin Mary and the unresponsive eyes of official Ireland, will be incumbent upon us. As a society, we cannot progress without this recognition.