An AIA review of Don't Make Me Go Back, Mommy
Written by Doris Sanford and illustrated by Graci Evans
Portland, OR: Multnomah Press, 1990
Reviewed by Gretchen Passantino
Copyright 1994 by Gretchen Passantino.
My eyes opened in the dark bedroom. I could only see the small, hunched
shape of my seven year old son as he stumbled toward the bed. Paul's
soft sobs had wakened me. "Mommy, Mommy, hold me, Mommy! Don't let
the bad guy get me, Mommy!" I lifted the edge of the covers and
settled him into bed between my husband and me. Paul buried his face in
my shoulder and clung tightly to my neck. I snuggled him close and
stroked his back.
"It's okay, Baby, Mommy and Daddy are here." I continued
murmuring reassurances to him, praying for Jesus to give him peace.
Slowly he quieted and drifted to sleep, secure in my arms. Such a big,
strong, fearless boy -- and yet so vulnerable. His baby sitter had let
him watch a violent, scary thriller on video and this was the third
night he had fallen victim in his dreams to the bad memories. I
carefully controlled my anger at the baby sitter. After all, she hadn't
meant to scare Paul. She thought it was a good movie. The bad guys were
really bad, but the good guys won. And it was a "reality-based
drama," not some psycho thriller science fiction monster. And yet
here was my young son, only in first grade and already trying to grapple
with the moral consequences of international drug dealing, political
torture, and cold blooded murder. No child should be exploited by fear,
even unwittingly, even when it's "reality-based."
Vicarious Victimization
Exploitation by fear is the problem with Multnomah Press's Hurts of
Childhood series' newest addition, Don't Make Me Go Back, Mommy: A
Child's Book about Satanic Ritual Abuse. Combine an impressionable
toddler, a caring, over- protective parent, and this book and you have
the ingredients to produce terror in a hurting, vulnerable child.
Satanic ritual child abuse is devastatingly horrible, and its victims
should be comforted, nurtured, and healed with the very best in
committed, loving, biblical counsel. But we do not need "counseling
aids" that can produce vicarious victimization.
Don't Make Me Go Back, Mommy is a twenty-four page picture book for
children between the ages of five and eleven, with lavish, full-color
illustrations. The simple text probably is designed to be read aloud by
a parent or therapist. The back cover summarizes the story: "When
five-year-old Allison's parents begin to see a change in her behavior at
home, they seek professional help for her. They find that Allison and
other children have been ritually abused at a day care center. Thus
begins Allison's recovery through counseling and through her parents'
affirmations that it was not her fault, that she is precious and loved,
and they will keep her safe."
The text is noticeably obscure perhaps partly since "the
'storyline' has been presented in vignettes -- little glimpses -- into
many possible ways ritual abuse occurs." Author Doris Sanford told
us she purposely "coded" the text as a way of reaching fearful
child victims, but also admitted that a non-victim child might be
"confused or angry" at the lack of clarity. Even so, the
catalog of reported ritual activities is clear in the dialog.
The pictures, confusing for most children, include "coded"
details as well as explicitly frightening scenes, such as the Halloween
ritual in the barnyard with a noose, naked children in a ritual circle,
and black robed figures.
The text and pictures' double meanings may have been used as
"clues" to abused children, but it sends a different and
frightening message to non-abused children: what you think is good is
bad, no matter what. The juxtaposition of normal items with the abnormal
could confuse children into thinking, for example, that if the pentagram
in the picture is evil, then so must be the cross next to it. The
perpetrators are all dark skinned and dark haired, so a child may
conclude that dark people are ritual abusers. The first picture of the
day care room is littered with "clues" such as cups of juice
(the abused child will recognize drugged drinks), the pregnant teacher
(translate "baby breeder for Satan"), or the pictures of
bunnies (representing the all-seeing, all-hearing abusers as well as the
real bunnies tortured and killed to warn against telling secrets). A
conscientious parent may well be used by this book to instill insecurity
and fear in the unexposed child.
In fact, objective data and hard evidence do not support any of the
presumptions on which this book is based. There is no evidence of a
widespread satanic conspiracy, no evidence of widespread ritual abuse,
no evidence that the many "adult survivors" have credible
stories, and no evidence that the value of this kind of book outweighs
its dangerous, exploitative ability to frighten children instead of
protect.
The strongest "argument" for the truthfulness of this
scenario is the anecdotal stories of "adult survivors" who
have been "treated" by therapists who are pushing their own
subjective illusions about the phenomenon. Some therapists with
preconceived ideas transfer those ideas to adult survivors, whose
testimonies are then used to transfer the ideas to children, so that
both adults and children can corroborate the therapists' preconceived
ideas. The therapists argue in a circle:
- The conspiracy exists.
- My patient, from fear of the conspiracy, represses her experience.
- I reassure her the conspiracy is real and I believe her.
- Then She "remembers" the conspiracy.
- Therefore, the conspiracy exists.
Another circular argument is added from this first illogical
argument:
- Adult survivors tell us this is a widespread conspiracy.
- Children who we suspect have been ritually abused don't talk.
- I tell them the adults' stories.
- Then they tell us their own stories.
- Therefore, the children corroborate the adults and both
corroborate the therapists.
On the contrary, the data and evidence instead suggest that there is
no widespread conspiracy. Further, ritual abuse evidence points to a few
isolated perpetrators. To date no objective public information or
evidence has been produced to support any "adult survivor,"
and the stories of some "survivors" have been proved false by
the evidence. There is also evidence that children's perceptions of
reality can be manipulated, even by those with good intentions, and the
result can be fear and emotional damage.
Children are extremely impressionable. Dreams, memories, movies,
stories, and television are often as real to young children as everyday
life. When trust in parents and a desire to please adults combine with
this impressionability, it is little wonder that children sometimes
believe and say they have experienced what actually has not happened to
them. Dr. Lee Coleman, a Berkeley psychiatrist and expert in child
sexual abuse, explained, "It's not a matter of a child's statement
only being either true or false. A third possibility is that a child,
particularly a young one, may be neither lying nor telling the truth,
but what he or she believes is true, based on the questioning of the
child by over- zealous, biased investigators, using props and leading
questions, perhaps even things like this book." Coleman expressed
to us his concern for these children, describing them as "victims
of sloppy, unprofessional and biased therapists who are harming the very
children they say they're trying to help." A major study by UC
Berkeley's Family Welfare Research Group reports that, merely after
listening to stories about child abuse, 20% of the preschoolers
questioned believed normal parental touching such as being bathed or
tucked into bed was "bad."
The Lauren Stratford Connection
After we had decided to review this book, a colleague passed on
interesting information. Lauren Stratford told him that she was the
actual author of Don't Make Me Go Back, Mommy! Were this true, the book
would be not only potentially harmful, but its credibility irrecoverably
damaged by Stratford's demonsrated history of story telling. In a
subsequent conversation, Lauren said she hadn't written the entire text,
but was closely consulted on the manuscript and contributed important
details. (In my follow-up interview recently, she declined to discuss
her involvement at all.)
We called Multnomah Press's Senior Editor, Al Jenssen, who told us
Lauren didn't write the book, but before her own book was exposed,
Multnomah used her as a consultant on the project. She provided research
and "looked at" one of the earlier drafts. Stratford's close
friend Lynn Laboriel recently told us Lauren was very involved in the
book, that her input on the book had improved it, making it less
distressing to troubled children. "I saw her make changes [to the
manuscript], that greatly increased the value of the message."
Doris Sanford told us she had read Satan's Underground, but that
Stratford's actual involvement was slight, consisting of two or three
phone calls "supportive of the project and encouraging us,"
and a large packet of research. "Perhaps Lauren's book encouraged
Multnomah concerning the need for our book, and Multnomah may have sent
her a copy after they approved it, but we didn't."
Jenssen added that after Stratford's book was exposed all information
used in the book obtained from her was double checked with other
sources. Jenssen told us Stratford originally believed she would have a
much greater involvement in the project, and "she could have felt
bad that we didn't follow through" as discussed. Jenssen declined
to give us his opinion on Stratford's current credibility.
Interestingly, Jenssen did not volunteer to us that he was the editor
Harvest House Publishers used to heavily edit Satan's Underground before
it was published. That double involvement may be relate to what Sanford
told us, that she had not considered writing this book until Multnomah
approached her with the need.
Conclusion
Don't Make Me Go Back, Mommy was released in July, 1990 and 7,600 copies
are in print. Sanford told us the book was marketed primarily to mental
health professionals, school counselors, parent organizations, and
support groups. Jenssen added that sales through secular bookstores were
stronger than to Christian markets. Marketing spokesman Dick Sleeper
agreed, but told us the book is also "plugged in well to Christian
bookstores." In other words, the book is readily accessible to the
general public and to small children.
Sanford is a conscientious author. I have recommended some of her
previous children's books. I cannot recommend this book, and I believe
strongly that it represents the danger when well-meaning professionals
substitute anecdotal experiences from untrustworthy sources for
legitimate evidence.
Cultwatch would like to thank Answers In Action for
the use of this text.
Answers In Action
P.O. Box 2067, Costa Mesa, California 92628
Phone US (949) 646 9042
Answers In Action
email: aia@answers.org
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