We lived in a big farmhouse when I was seven. One day, all three of us girls received a severe whipping for allegedly stealing Sugar Daddy suckers. He called it “whipping from head to tail.”

When he finished, my mother called the woman we had supposedly stolen from. She learned that the woman had placed the candies in our bag as a surprise. We were then handed the belt and told to whip him in return. He had beaten us for nothing, and now it was our turn. He was drunk, as usual.

I was paralyzed with fear and refused. Amy, however, began hitting him with everything she had. She struck him until he wrested the belt from her hands. I have always admired her bravery. Afterward, the three of us crawled into our shared bed, sobbing under the covers. It was so cold that we could see our breath. Our bedroom had no heat, so we huddled together for warmth.

The next day, after school, my mother received a call from the school. She told her husband he would no longer be allowed to spank us. The school had threatened to notify authorities if we arrived with marks on our bodies again. I have often wondered: Why do child abusers so frequently receive second chances?

Did the school official truly believe a simple threat would bring meaningful change? I still remember crying out in class one day when my teacher patted my back. I can still see the look on her face as she continued up the aisle. It is easier to walk away, but what message does that send to the frightened child left behind?

Why do adults have more rights than children? How can a parent who inflicts such harm be given warnings rather than immediate intervention? If an adult struck another adult in the same manner, it would be considered assault. Was I simply a possession?

I don’t recall many more belt whippings after that call, but the abuse did not stop. I remember him striking my hand with a metal vacuum hose, leaving a scar I still carry today. There were countless slaps and punches to the head. Abusers always find a way.

When I was finally removed from my mother’s home and placed in foster care, social workers documented both physical and emotional abuse. She was never charged. Had I been an adult, the consequences would have been far different. The photos above come from the family services investigation at the time of my removal.

How can a system determine that a parent has abused one child, yet later entrust that same parent with the safety and wellbeing of another? Why not remove all children from a home where even one is being harmed?

It is difficult to understand why, in the very same county that removed me for abuse, a judge would later place another innocent child into that environment. I had hoped things had changed since my childhood. I was wrong. While our country has made progress since the 1980s and 1990s in many areas, we remain painfully behind when it comes to protecting children’s rights.