The DesertLight Journal |
Paul Clemens |
Ed. note: This editorial was published simultaneously with the Feb/March 2002 issue of Everyman, a Canadian hard-copy magazine. |
WHY, PAPA? Papa, I just left the courthouse. The judge gave my daughter to her mother. Sole custody. I just got every other weekend visitation. Four days out of 30 isn't much, papa. I've never known such hurt. Why didn't you do something when this happened to you? You could have written letters to the editor. You could have gone to the state house to lobby for fairer laws. You could have fought back against the judge. Instead, you accepted what they did to you meekly. Did you think you were the only one being discriminated against? Did you not love me enough to fight for me? Did you think there was no chance of winning? Did you fail to see that, by not fighting back, you were dooming future generations to the same unjust treatment? Papa, I'm a member of that future generation, and your granddaughter is too. Why didn't you fight back, papa? Papa, I just left the courthouse. They said I abused my daughter, and I won't be allowed to see her anymore. You know it's not true, papa. But they wouldn't let me question the supposed "expert" witnesses, or call Janey to the stand. The people who were supposed to have examined her wouldn't let me see the reports. The judge kept calling me "the perpetrator", in spite of the suspicious nature of the evidence against me. Papa, why didn't you protest when they did this to you? Why didn't you write to the papers? Why didn't you call the Governor? Why didn't you demand a real trial? Why didn't you work for the activists fighting false accusations? Papa, this is killing me inside, why did you let it happen? Papa, I just left the courthouse. They took away my parental rights, and signed adoption papers for some other guy to take your granddaughter. Just like what happened to you, papa. I can't say I blame you for running away. That's how I feel right now, too. I know it wasn't your fault that we were separated. I know you didn't want the divorce in the first place. I know you loved me, and wanted to stay near me. I know now the bias that drove you away. I also know the pain and anguish you had to face. I know full well the frustration you must have felt. I'm sorry for feeling resentful, papa, but I can't help but feel let down. Why didn't you try to fight back so I wouldn't lose my daughter like you lost your son? Why didn't you work to change the system, so your granddaughter could still have her dad? Why, Papa? Now it's too late. Mama, I just left the cemetery. I had a long talk with Papa. |