The power of stories to rebel against a taboo

When it happened, everyone knew.
Some people were gracious about it, others not so much:
‘Where are YOUR parents?’
Also, when meeting new people…
For many years, I didn’t know how to talk about it.
I always got the same reaction: shock or disbelief.

I was there when it happened,
so I went through so much of Court:
‘ You’re here to tell the truth,’ they said.
But I was just learning to talk,
let alone understand all those big words.

And I remember bouncing
from counsellor to counsellor.
I spent so long just telling the story of what happened,
that we never got into how to move forward.
And it was just exhausting.
I can roll it off my tongue
and it just sounds like I’m making it up.

You know, knowledge is power.
But growing up, I didn’t know
what to believe about the homicide.
I always felt I was missing a part of the puzzle.
I started asking questions.
I got shut down.
Everything was so taboo.
I gathered all the information I could
to form my own opinion.

There came a point where I went,
‘My life is literally a true crime podcast’
but no one talks about it.
Nope, I’M talking about it.
I’m standing up for what I believe in.
This was the extreme end of family violence.
Like it or not, that’s what it was.

How the hell do you compact years of trauma?
It is hard to talk and relive it,
it is still quite raw.
But the more I talk about my life,
I find it a lot easier.
You know, I went through that trauma,
but look at where I am now.

How do I tell my story?
As an empowering story.
Mum’s memory lives on in sharing that story,
helping others survive.
I still worry what my family will think.
But what if me talking helps another person?
Then bugger them,
the bigger picture is we’ve got
to make a better future.
But it’s always gonna be the hardest thing
I’ll ever have to do.

I’m 16…
She’s never going to see me graduate.
She’s never gonna see me pass my driving license.
She’s never gonna be there
when a boy breaks my heart.

Now it’s been more than 20 years.
One part of me is that story.
I no longer need to tell the story
to justify anything anymore
But now my kids want to know
why they never met grandma.

Everybody’s life story is unique and important, and even stories have a story of their own.

You’ve just read a story composed of the individual narratives of people who lost a parent due to domestic homicide.

One parent being killed by the other parent or a partner completely upends children’s lives. There is the loss of parent(s), the family home is often the crime scene and children may be witnesses.

And many of these children have to move to a different home, school and community.

SEEN AS TOO VULNERABLE

Many children and young people have to deal with the stigma of the homicide and the trauma of years of exposure to domestic violence.

Currently, there is not enough support for them and their caregivers to cope with all these challenges.

Stories have the power to connect people with experiences – to learn from and support each other.

Unfortunately, children are often treated as passive victims who lack the competency or are too vulnerable to make sense of and talk about their own experiences, or to decide how, when and with whom they want to share them.

In our study at the University of Melbourne, we listened to the life stories of twelve people with lived experience of losing a parent to domestic homicide when they were a child.

These stories were told after the homicide – sometimes years or decades later. And we analysed them using a narrative approach.

CREATING NEW REALITIES

The aim of narrative research is to understand how people create meaning in their lives.

The narrative research approach acknowledges that every story is unique and closely tied to its context. Rather than seeking an objective ‘truth,’ researchers acknowledge the active role of storytellers – both the participants and researchers – in identifying, constructing and interpreting stories.

When we got to know the narratives of our participants, we understood that they went through a long, complex and ongoing process of claiming ownership and control over the stories of their own lives.

We found ‘subverses’ is a useful way of referring to the stories that participants shared. It is a combination of ‘subversion’ and ‘verses’ that challenges the oppressive narratives and the imposition of silence by claiming ownership over their personal stories.

Participants created new realities for themselves and others through the accounts of their lives.

Especially during childhood and adolescence, participants often felt silenced, isolated, misunderstood and even disconnected from their own story.

Breaking the silence was a complex and difficult process that involved fighting to gain access to information and dealing with other people’s negative reactions.

These people rebelled against narratives that reduced their identities to the homicide or to becoming just like their parents.

They also rebelled against a society that failed to acknowledge that the homicide was the extreme end of domestic violence, and social pressures to present themselves as ‘good,’ ‘believable,’ or ‘resilient’ victims.

A LIFELONG JOURNEY

At the same time, the prefix ‘sub’ points to the fact that, like deep currents flowing beneath a river’s surface, the meanings behind participants’ stories are dynamic and cannot always be expressed with words.

By claiming control over their personal stories, these mostly grown children gained a stronger sense of agency, self-acceptance, healing and connection to others.

But breaking the silence requires a great deal of courage and effort. Sometimes they chose silence.

People in their environment were not always ready or willing to listen. On occasion, conflict led to building positive and authentic relationships with family.

Creating and sharing their stories was a lifelong journey. Encountering new stages and experiences often meant rebelling against new narratives and expectations imposed from the outside.

Previous studies have shown the mental health benefits of supporting children and young people to make sense of and share their stories.

Our participants shared their stories to create a better future for other children and young people. Growing up, most had never met anyone else bereaved by domestic homicide. This took away the opportunity to learn and receive support from others who could truly understand what they were going through.

Our work emphasises the crucial importance of children and young people having a choice in creating, making sense of and sharing of their story across their whole lives.

This article is part of a series on the impact of domestic homicide on children and young people. While there are usually one or two authors mentioned, the whole research team and several people with lived experience have contributed. The illustrations have been hand drawn by Thu Huong Nguyen (Abigail). The research report contains further information.

Are you looking for support? In Australia, good places to start are Kids Helpline, Life Line, Beyond Blue and 1800 Respect. These are all free of charge. You can also contact your doctor (GP) to discuss a subsidised Mental Health Treatment Plan, and you may be able to access counselling through your employer’s Employee Assistance Program (EAP) or your TAFE/university’s counselling services. You may also be eligible for support, counselling or financial assistance through your state or territory Victims of Crime service.

Are you keen to connect with peers? If you have lost a parent due to fatal family violence, we can connect you with peers with lived experience. Please send an email.

Banner: Thu Huong Nguyen (Abigail)