By Dawn M. Sanders
How can one begin the healing process after ten plus years of being demonised and shackled by a system which treats single mothers or families from marginalised communities with heavy-handed control and the distain one would expect as a criminal or pariah, just for daring to stand up for our human rights and the truth?
Just in writing this piece alone is where I start, but there is anything but closure…
When I published this long-form piece in Barriers to Bridges – the online magazine I previously founded, not only did it fail to get the exposure it needed to draw attention to something rarely reported by mainstream or even alternative outlets, following on it has only been half the story.
As the above piece is long-form, I will just summarise – it provides a snapshot into the life I built raising my son as a single mum. His additional needs became more complex as he grew with diagnoses and intervention, but we had love and support in the early years.
He thrived at his special school, had a rich and alternative childhood and formative years, but then the tidal wave of change which caged a young bird just as his wings were about to spread has scarred us both for life.
When I wrote the piece in 2023 it had already dragged on for seven agonising years – the face-to-face lies which became courtroom lies; the demonising and framing me, a mother with a visual impairment; as an ogre, the disproportionate and blatant bias of a judge who had already made his decision before the hearings. The opposing parties barely played the charade of courtroom pleasantries, as their job was and always is, to smear the accused, the defendant, by reducing them to mere scapegoats for a system which fundamentally failed my son, but remember this was not a criminal case of abuse. If anyone has been abused in this scenario it has been my son and I. It was and still is, a game I refused to play so my son and I have paid the price.
I just hope anyone reading this synopsis of the whole ordeal, will take time to read the above article. Since that piece was published, there were several episodes of my son protesting for hours before getting in the car to be driven back up to his life of misery after weekends of visiting me, by the next year I refused to allow him to be taken back, a court order mandated him staying here and he now is living with me, as I recently found us a larger accommodation so his support workers have a bedroom and everyone has plenty of space. Oh, but you can better believe the vultures, as I’ve dubbed them for many years, didn’t like it.
Suffice to know, the hearings have continued and the new local authority where we reside are just as corrupt if not worse as the first where we moved to in 2010 and finally pulled my son from their authoritarian clutches.
As the current local authority spent several hearings blundering, spitting out half-baked mudballs at me – making things up and changing their position as they went along, they had opportunity after opportunity in hearing after hearing. Yet, – they brought nothing to the table, as they wanted to move my son again against his will – even after I had just found us our new rented house. At the final hearing, for now according to the court, when the local authority seemed to come to some kind of coherence, the judge halted further hearings – preventing me from giving evidence to confirm and set the record straight on false allegations set against me. So busy were the other parties hellbent on painting me as a difficult monster, not a single word was spoken on further efforts I had just made in addition to the lengthy battle, to improve our living situation.
In fact, if ever there was a blatant example of a spokesman for the judicial system spelling out how single mums on low incomes should ‘know their place’ – it came when, in the closing spoken statement, ‘so, Ms. Sanders has found a property, a necessary move, calling the shots’…
A’hum, no I’m not supposed to “call the shots” or be proactive as an educated and conscientious mother, I’m supposed to keep my head down and do what I’m told and let the ‘big people’ make all the decisions.
It was beyond nauseating and finally reached the point I couldn’t take anymore, so I left the remote hearing before it ended.
I’m not filling in all the gaps here, as I’ve at last reached the point where I need to move on, get myself back, ensure my son’s healing, wellbeing and recovery from his lost years are compensated for, with love, attention and self-fulfilment, but the process is slow.
I’ve decided to do what I have always intended, especially the longer the saga has dragged on and the more hurt and pain we have endured – I’m writing a book to chronical absolutely everything…
I have just this week reached out to Facebook groups for advice on starting the whole process. I’m returning to my journalism and authoring the book which already has a title and the same talented friend who designed the magazine covers of Barriers to Bridges, has agreed to design the book cover.
The plan is in the early stages as I consider appealing the case as well as, in a final attempt at autonomy in regaining responsibility of my son’s finances from the hands of the state vultures who took it from me some years ago.
Susan Hotin Renard wrote profound words of encouragement on the
Facebook group where I hinted at what the book would be addressing:
“I’m so sorry for what you’ve experienced. What you describe is something that frustrates me to no end here in the US as well.
The systematic dismantling of families by every means possible — through money, housing, food, medical care, and most of all, instability. It feels bound to become the very thing that erodes a culture’s humanity.
And you’re holding that story in your hands.”
Please visit this link and consider donating to the crowd-funder I’ve set up for obtaining legal aid funds for appointee-ship of my son’s finances in releasing the chokehold in this crucial area of his basic rights.