Fighting Words

Child sexual abuse is such a dark topic that it is taboo to discuss it openly. Society often maintains an “out of sight, out of mind” approach, which invalidates the lived experiences of survivors and places stigma upon them. Survivors who tell their stories are walking proof that child sexual abuse is real, and those who refuse to acknowledge and confront the issue react with disbelief or judgment.

Della first experiences the stigma of abuse the night she and Suki escape Clifton’s home after he sexually assaults her. When they are placed with their emergency foster placement, the woman does not believe Suki and Della. The woman, whom Della refers to as “Nasty woman,” calls Della and Suki’s account of the events “accusations.” When Suki insists that she is protecting Della, the woman says, “How do I know what’s true?” (44). This makes Della realize that people “[don’t want to hear” the truth of what happened to them (44), which hinders their ability to heal. By not being able to share their story without fear of not being believed, Suki and Della cannot confront their trauma in a healthy way, which contributes to Della’s anger and teaches Suki that she cannot trust anyone to help her shoulder her burdens. Suki has a better understanding of the stigma attached to abuse, and her internalization of it causes her to misinterpret gestures of protection and support: She resents Teena’s mother for calling the police on Clifton, and she lashes out at Teena before Teena can scorn her, even though Teena never indicates she will do so.

After they escape Clifton, it takes time for Della and Suki to fully realize that they do not need to feel ashamed or guilty. People in Della and Suki’s lives, like Teena and Francine, help in deconstructing the stigma of abuse with patience and support. Teena never gives up on Della and Suki, even when Suki tries to end their friendship out of shame. Francine provides a safe and supportive environment and openly acknowledges that they have not been properly cared for: “Foster care might be better than anything you’ve had in your life so far, and it will still never be as good as what you should have had” (175). This helps Della and Suki understand that they are not to blame for their abuse: They were failed by the adults who should have protected them.

Della learns through therapy about the physiological changes that can affect someone who has experienced abuse: “[W]hen bad things happen to people, it could make their brains change for the worse [...] Your brain gets more sensitive. Jumpier. Your heart beats faster. You get upset or angry more easily” (213-14). This contextualizes Della and Suki’s behavior: Della’s temper and Suki’s mental health crisis. With Dr. Fremont’s help, Della learns how to better cope with the after-effects of her abuse. Healthy coping mechanisms, such as breathing exercises, calm her down and help her stay focused. This allows Della to stay in control without resorting to violence, which gains her the attention of adults that previously brushed her off as a troublemaker.

Della also comes to understand Suki is a child who was abused, just like her. When she finally understands that it would hurt Suki to testify against Clifton in person, she suggests that Suki testify on tape instead. Suki, who still grapples with the effects of stigmatization, points out that recorded testimonies are only for children, and Della clearly outlines reality: “You were so little, Suki. You did your best, but even now—you’re not a grown-up. You’re a girl” (253). Suki has been Della’s idol and protector their whole lives. Now, removed from their traumatic circumstances and given space to heal, Della finally understands the extent of what Suki did for them, and she points out that Suki never should have had to. This positions Della as a symbol of hope for the future; young Della can recognize that Suki deserves care and support, not judgment, and she openly advocates for her sister. Suki is slower to relinquish her self-blame; however, by the end of the book, she is able to express compassion toward her younger self: “Sometimes [...] I feel so sorry for that scared little girl” (253). She, too, has learned that the things that happened to her are not her fault.

Though the stigma of their abuse marks their stories for much of the text, both Suki and Della illustrate that “people can and do heal. They can and do get better” (201). With support from open-minded friends and adults, they each learn to confront their abuse, and they begin healing from it without shaming, blaming themselves, or relying on maladaptive coping mechanisms.