Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Meeting The Ghost Of My Sexual Harrasser, Power Abuser, Martin G. Groder, On Christmas Eve

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A poem of sorts, as I begin my Ethics Complaint healing, at long last, from sexual harassment and power abuse by Martin G. Groder. M.D.

Twas the night before Xmas and all through my house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Meanwhile I, in my night shirt, had a new book to read. 

Just in time, arriving for curling up with a need – 

-- for a good???? book on this cold, wintery eve.

Whilst I awaited Santa, his eight tiny reindeer and sleigh, a tale of uncovering misdeed had shown up for me.

Settling in, as I did, with this new book of mine, a voice from beyond called out, requesting some time.

“Marcia,” said he, using my birth name, as he’d done in the past –

“I’ve come to settle up harm and damages done you by me.

I’m here to help, if you’ll allow.  

From my place above (And, yes, that’s where I’ve landed. Are you surprised?)

Free of my customary revenge-taking, I’m here to offer what I resisted before, when you asked: compassionate, respectful dialogue, conversation, healing and reconciliation.

How else had you figured to resolve an ethics complaint against me, for the harm I did you, with a man who’s deceased,” he asked.

“Uh, oh, said I, what have we here?”

Truly the defection of our colleagues (the International Transactional Analysis Association and its Ethics Committee) had ended up doing me more harm than good –

-- adding to the heavy doses you had already inflicted on me," I answered back.

Should I dare risk another try? 

Take another chance at telling my tale and the prices levied on me for breaking my silence, hoping for healing and reconciliation?

Certainly, I've given the quandary I’ve been in, some thought, on many an occasion, these twelve months past.

Even imploring the Ethics Committee of the ITAA to do their rightful duty, as laid out in their official Ethics and Professional Practices guidelines and rules.

To no avail.

Of course, I naively expected they would carry through the mandate they had.

But as we already know, they failed miserably with it, betraying a long-held trust.

And, as we saw, their minimal efforts did not last.

Now lo and behold, am I to take another glance at the harm I’ve endured when what I am seeking is relief from it all? 

What should I do with this apparition, presenting itself here, I wondered, with the ghost of Martin G. Groder, the ghost of the man who used his power and authority over me to cause me long-lasting, still enduring, harm?

Pointing out he had left behind, upon his demise,  his completed written testimony on his Dark Side Warrior, his ghosts of the past, would I not, now, give him a chance?

Asserting that, in true Compassionate Warrior mode, before he left, he had cleaned up his act, and now wanted nothing more, from me, but to help my resolve.

"Read carefully this missive, Winning At Love: The Alpha Males Guidebook To Relationship Success," said he, implying, with an all too familiar certainty, that it was his doing, from the other side, that had sent that book to me, delivered perfectly on time, the very same day I dared speak, publicly, of his harmful behaviors with me.

So here was the ghost of himself, come to get on my back and haunt me for going breaking my silence, announcing to an unfiltered audience, his dark deeds of the past, if I would not give him a chance to do right by me now.

Here in this tome, co-authored by Pat Webster, Ph.D, was the singular text that would lend Marty a voice to set the record straight, for his part, as I do mine, calling out his Dark Side.

What to do? What to do?

With naught else to do on this wintery night, I sat down to read.

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Dialogue, acknowledge, down on bended knee, with remorse, when and where guilty of malice, as he had, indeed been.

Amends for harm done is the only true way, said I.

So here's what I can do, I will publicly complain about you, Marty, as is my right, said I, as  I sat down to read, on Christmas Eve, words from the grave and beyond.

So I can stop carrying the cost of my quiet, stored up for nearly thirty years, since the final days of your revenge on me for my rebuffs of you, which, in truth, I am still paying.

That is my pledge to me, as well as to others, especially women, who have walked in shoes like mine.

However, using words from your book, as I quote and interpret them, I will try to do my best to give you sound bytes and data space to share through this last major publication of yours, some of your thoughts and lessons learned to round off the process.

My goodness, what an adventure this is already starting out to be!



More to come.

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