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	An Interview with Survivor Supporter, Margaret Schettler Healing and Spirituality December 10, 2009 http://jjromo.wordpress.com/ Margaret Schettler is a survivor supporter in southern CA. I imagine that if there were people like her in every church or temple or mosque, that we would see a sea change in abuse reporting and prevention. JR: We first met at a press conference about five years ago, when you came forward to share your journey related to Fr. Tony Rodrigue. You were the first survivor supporter I had met who had done so much independent work to expose the pattern of a serial molester. What got you to do that? MS: I got involved first out of concern that there might be victims of Rodrigue from Our Lady of Soledad Parish in Coachella (CA) where I knew him in 1976 when he was waiting to enter rehabilitation for sexual abuse of boys. At the time it never occurred to me that Rodrigue would return to active parish duty, but when revelations of sexual abuse of children by clergy hit the headlines in 2001-2002 I decided to follow up with Bishop Barnes of the Diocese of San Bernardino to establish Rodrigue’s presence at the parish in Coachella in case any victims were to come forward from there. I thought church officials would respond with compassion and concern for any possible victims. Their feigned ignorance, stalling, and intentional lack of meaningful action were unexpected and incomprehensible to me. My initial goal was to connect an abuser’s name with the parish in Coachella. When I uncovered such Rodrigue’s extensive history of abuse I wanted the church to make relevant information available to the public so that more of Rodrigue’s many victims could get help. Rodrigue, also known as Fr. Tony, admitted to molesting 4-5 boys a year while he was a priest (close to 30 years). Rodrigue, who died recently, was first arrested and placed on probation for child sexual abuse in 1978. He was incarcerated from 1998-2006 for sexually assaulting a developmentally disabled boy after he left the priesthood. Eventually I learned that he was transferred time and again because of child abuse allegations, serving at parishes in San Diego, Imperial, Riverside and San Bernardino counties. His history as a sexual predator was known to every bishop under whom he served in the Diocese of San Diego, and later in the Diocese of San Bernardino. Somehow his trail of child abuse was kept quiet by church officials even when they clearly knew that speaking out could help his many victims as well as offended Catholics. When I contacted pastors of the parishes where Rodrigue worked, and when I spoke to the press, it was because there seemed no other way to get the job done. I felt apologetic and frustrated that I was doing what Bishop Barnes (Diocese of San Bernardino) and Bishop Brom (Diocese of San Diego) should be doing to reach out to Rodrigue’s victims as well as to the Catholic community at large. Eventually I let go of the fantasy that I could convince church leaders to think or act differently, and I became more comfortable simply doing what I felt called to do. Somewhere along the way my focus shifted from struggling against injustice in the church to advocating for survivors, and for honesty and accountability — a subtle change that helps keep bitterness or fatigue from damaging me in the process. I try to keep my focus on what I can contribute, rather than simply being critical of what others are or aren’t doing. I realize I can’t change anyone but myself. As I got to know clergy abuse survivors and their families, I was deeply affected by their stories, their perseverance for justice and truth, their concern to find and support fellow victims, and their commitment to protect children. Many survivors are from the most active, devout families in their parishes and Catholic schools. As an involved Catholic, it is easy for me to identify with them, and to speak up for them. JR: You were one of the first people in the LA area to create listening sessions for survivors to tell their stories and be heard by parishioners. What came out of those first gatherings (positives and limitations)? MS: I believe the listening sessions empowered those who spoke as well as those who listened, and helped to build some bridges. Listening sessions were educational and raised awareness among parishioners. Parishioners said meeting face to face with survivors was powerful, and made the abuse crisis more real and personal for them. Even now, some 4 and 5 years later, parishioners repeat the parts of the stories that impressed them, and they ask how the people who spoke are doing today. The first listening sessions (as well as other parish events that included clergy abuse survivors) at Our Lady of Grace were group efforts, organized by our parish Safeguard the Children Committee. We tried to figure out a way for our community “to just act like church” in the midst of the raging controversy of the time. Finally we decided to invite clergy abuse survivors and/or family members to speak, and we invited parishioners to simply listen in a spirit of respect. Today survivors still say those listening sessions were memorable. They say they felt hopeful through being heard by regular Catholics, and they felt a sense of support. Despite the mostly positive feedback in my parish, listening sessions were not easy to arrange or popular when survivors asked that they be expanded to other parishes where a specific abuser worked. The most successful listening sessions were the ones where personal invitations were made to parish staff members, teachers, catechists, and other parish leaders. The support and involvement of the pastor was crucial. Setting up the sessions with openness and clarity of expectations for all involved was sometimes painstaking and time consuming, but it was very important to putting everyone at ease. The ever present tension in setting up the sessions was two fold: fear of a negative backlash towards pastors from archdiocesan officials, and concern that survivors could be hurt by negativity from parishioners. The sessions could be emotionally draining, particularly for the speakers, even though they always insisted that telling their stories was a vital part of their recovery process. The survivors who shared their stories showed tremendous courage, and sometimes a scheduled speaker backed out at the last minute out of fear or stress. I was always amazed at the hope present in each speaker, who shared his or her experience to empower other victims, and to promote understanding among parishioners. Some survivors attended listening sessions just to support those who spoke, and their quiet presence was also powerful. Most of the listening sessions brought out the best in parishioners who were hospitable and compassionate and glad for a way to show their concern. Compassionate listening seems like a natural human response when people (survivors as well as parishioners) have been visited by such a disaster as the clergy abuse crisis. However, opportunities for listening and/or dialog between clergy abuse survivors and parishioners are still few and far between. JR: You’ve worked in many areas of parish life– as a baptism coordinator, family ministry, Virtus (Protecting God’s Children) facilitator, director of religious education, and have been involved in many parish and diocesan committees. How has your identity in the Catholic Church changed over the past five or so years? MS: My comfortable sense of feeling at home in the church has changed. Even though I feel very connected with the people in my parish community, I am now quite conscious of the absence of those who aren’t with us when we gather for Mass — those who can’t be there because of their level of discomfort, alienation, or loss of faith which came about through no fault of their own. I am more attuned to the different ways in which church policies or individuals acting in the name of the church have alienated people (intentionally or not) and then blamed them or judged them for leaving the church or losing their faith. It does not seem like a realistic expectation that clergy abuse survivors (or people who are alienated for other reasons) should simply let bygones be bygones and “come back to the church”—as if we (the church) are the center of the universe! In many cases we need to recognize our own need for repentance and “come back” to those we have betrayed or marginalized. I now know that having faith or losing faith is not a simple matter that people can control. Seeing firsthand how faith can crumble because of the abuse of religious authority has been humbling. I see what a painful, difficult journey it is for many individuals and families to have lost their Catholic identity, community, and the consolation of their faith on top of having to struggle with the effects of sexual abuse. At the same time it is a mystery how some others cling to their faith in God as the one thing their abuser can’t take from them along with everything else that was lost or spoiled as a result of their abuse. Sometimes the institutional culture of the church has felt like a rock that would crush me, rather than a rock of strength. However the truth is that I came to know, and continue to experience God’s presence and personal love in this church, with the support and companionship of many other Catholics. My faith is a gift based in the truth of the gospel, not on the righteousness or rightness of all who say they act in God’s name, or in the name of God’s people. Seeing so much goodness in the people of my parish is one thing that helps me to stay in the church, despite institutional corruption, indifference, or ineptitude. JR: You mentioned recently that at that Rodrigue press conference several years ago, that you were terrified. I see you now as someone who brings a voice of advocacy to many people as a fairly normal part of who you are. How did that transformation take place? MS: With experience I am stronger and more secure in the knowledge I have gained. I’ve grown more comfortable speaking a truth and vision that sometimes makes others uncomfortable. Knowing that some survivors reported their abuse as a result of actions I took, and that key supporters also came forward with helpful information gives me confidence. In a few instances church leaders took action seemingly as a result of the external pressure I brought to bear, such as at the end of 2003 when the Diocese of San Bernardino made announcements at parishes where Rodrigue worked. I see some signs of progress. For example, my goal in 2004 with the press conference was to get the list of Fr. Rodrigue’s parish assignments published in the San Diego press for the sake of Rodrigue victims from the Diocese of San Diego. Now it has become commonplace for parish assignments to be made public when someone who works for the church is accused of abuse. Back in 2004 it was unusual, and so it took greater effort to get it done. (Incidently, priest assignments are a matter of public record and are published annually in national and diocesan directories – they are not privileged information.) It was helpful for me to eventually understand that much of the self-protective, defensive response of church leaders that I found so maddening and counter productive, is part of a normal institutional reaction. Accepting that has helped me to be less shocked or personally offended by it. I am able to be more matter of fact in speaking up or in taking action as the natural, practical thing to do. Most of the time I am able to separate my faith life from the politics of the institutional church. JR: What recent responses have you gotten from parishioners or diocesan committee members when you have spoken up for survivors? MS: Involved church folks and employees often seem surprised and uncomfortable when asked to show support today for those who have been abused by clergy. They seem surprised that it is still a relevant topic in 2009. Many feel supportive of survivors, but don’t readily see an avenue to show it. They are usually surprised to hear that survivors tend to interpret their silence as indifference or worse. Others wonder about the truth of the truth of abuse allegations and/or the motivations of those who filed lawsuits against the church. Some people keep the whole issue at arm’s length because it’s too difficult to process. Some people are just tired of hearing about it. A very common response is worry about the morale of priests because of the bad publicity and controversy that the abuse crisis has brought. That concern seems to make some parishioners uncomfortable about openly supporting clergy abuse survivors. Since they regularly see their parish priests, but don’t have regular contact with clergy abuse survivors, I presume they tend not to identify with the abused or their families. That always surprises me! I don’t think support for survivors and support for priests are mutually exclusive. We are all in this together! We (church employees) have been very busy implementing the norms of the US Catholic Bishops Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People. Those I work with in Religious Education have made abuse prevention a regular part of doing business in the church through background checks of employees and volunteers, and standardized abuse prevention education for adult volunteers, employees, parents, as well as the children in our programs. It has taken a tremendous amount of energy to change direction and to do things differently. People are rightly proud of what they have accomplished in the area of abuse prevention education, but they often forget that the impetus for the change came from the courageous perseverance of clergy abuse survivors and public outrage – not from the inspired initiative of the US Catholic Bishops. It is assumed that bishops and victims assistance ministers sometimes meet in private with individual survivors, but most parishioners have not figured out that they are the ones who will or will not create a safe place for abuse survivors and their families to be welcomed, heard, and not judged. We haven’t begun to collaborate and learn firsthand from those who were abused in our own parishes. It’s almost as if they don’t really exist! Regular folks really haven’t thought that they have a role to play in outreach, healing, or reconciliation. There are no processes in place yet at the parish level to openly discuss and process what has happened to us. JR: Can you talk about some of your spiritual journey or development as an advocate or survivors supporter, particularly in the past few years? MS: My deep sense of grief and betrayal related to the clergy abuse crisis ushered in a time of personal turmoil related to faith and my place in the church. It was much like my experience of bereavement at the death of a close family member. My world felt turned upside down as I questioned everything. During this time I felt a strong sense of God’s love, presence and guidance. It was a strange combination of pain and consolation! In the fall of 2003 I documented my experience dealing with church officials related to the Rodrigue case in a complaint to the National Review Board of the US Catholic Bishops Office of Child and Youth Protection. Compiling my information into a timeline and list of the facts in black and white brought me to my lowest point where I could no longer explain away the behavior of church officials. I began to meet with a psychologist to help me cope. When it seemed that there would be no meaningful action related to my Review Board complaint, I began to take matters into my own hands to make public information about the Rodrigue case for the sake of his many victims. Ongoing support from my pastor and colleagues was incredibly helpful to me. My family was patient with my distraction and sadness, and they helped keep me grounded in normal life. Survivor friends were kind and offered encouragement, while leaving me free to learn in my own time some of the hard lessons they already knew from dealing with church leaders. About five years ago, seeking to find a healthy place to learn and grow professionally, I enrolled in a three year course in Spiritual Direction at the Spirituality Center at Mt. St. Mary’s College. I wanted to understand the process of spiritual development, wisdom about the spiritual life, and healthy ways to provide spiritual support. It turned out to be a place of growth that was helpful professionally, and especially personally. What I learned reinforced the power of compassionate listening and a non judgmental presence with others. It helped me grow more at ease with discomfort – in myself and others. It deepened my understanding that spiritual growth results more from questions than answers, and involves freedom, honesty, listening, and waiting. I came to realize that Catholic belief, worship, tradition, and service of God’s people were sources of life for me. My disillusionment is related to the misuse of authority and the lack of transparency or accountability in church leadership—areas that call out for reform in accord with the gospels and our own church teachings. My journey over the past years related to supporting survivors led to a stripping away of unrealistic expectations and illusions about myself and others that has brought me, for now, into a more settled peace. I continue to meet regularly with a spiritual director. I have often found myself as sort of a bridge person between two communities – survivors and churchgoers. I’m beginning to see that role as a both a gift and a call. My life-changing experiences and relationships with clergy abuse survivors give me a perspective that enriches my involvement in abuse prevention and education within the church. I try to raise awareness and advocate for survivors in many different settings. JR: You’ve been a tireless support in the creation and sustenance of the survivor-supporter dialogues in the LA area this fall. What have you gained from those? MS: A few years ago when you asked me to begin reviewing and discussing the material for your workbook, I was inspired by your vision for creating safe environments that goes beyond compliance with requirements for insurance coverage or protection from law suits. I appreciate the focus on healthy practices for individuals and organizations I continue to learn and to experience a reality check from conversation with survivors and supporters in the sessions. The dialogues provide personal individual support in a safe place. They also have the potential to become a sort of think tank for individuals and groups who work in the area of child abuse prevention. I have always believed that communication and collaboration between survivors and regular church folks are key to bringing something positive out of the horrible history of abuse and cover-up, so the very existence of these dialogue sessions gives me hope. JR: Thank you for your time and example.
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