Richard D. Propes
Monday, December 11, 2006 at 9:38PM BIO
I've been a survivor since the day I was born…My name is Richard Propes. I'm 41-years-old and a lifelong resident of Indianapolis, Indiana. I was born with spina bifida in a small, rural hospital just outside of Indianapolis. My parents were given very little hope that I would survive, and even my mother's priest suggested that it might be better if I didn't. Alas, I am a survivor.
My parents were told that I wouldn't survive. I did. My parents were told I would never walk. I walked with crutches for the first 22 years of my life. My parents were told I was developmentally disabled and would need lifelong special education. Wrong again. My parents were told I would always be dependent upon them. I have lived independently since the age of 17.
I learned about surviving at an early age, and at an early age I needed those survival skills. At the age of 5, my cycle of sexual abuse began with an older neighbor who took special interest in the younger kids. His special "interest" would eventually lead to being photographed and filmed in sexual situations. Thankfully, this ended rather abruptly not long after it first started following his death.
At the age of 9 or 10, I met Jeff. Jeff was an older teen in the neighborhood in which I lived. I'd never really had friends, and certainly never had any invite me for sleep overs. I required much special care related to my spina bifida, and even most of my relatives shied away from it. Jeff was the first person I can remember saying the words "I love you." I believed him. His version of love started with innocent childhood games like "truth or dare" and rapidly moved towards increasingly frequent and violent episodes of sexual and physical assault. I would spend weekends with him and be locked in the closet for hours or even days at a time. The therapist I would eventually see as an adult called what I endured torture…I'm honestly unsure to this day, because it's all I knew. As Jeff's assaults intensified, he would involve others from the neighborhood who he either intimidated or charmed. He always said he wanted to ruin me physically so that I would be completely unlovable. He said it time and time again as he inflicted wounds.
I have always been amazed that my grades dropped, hygiene worsened, health worsened and I became completely isolative and anti-social and nobody noticed. Finally, one day, a neighbor noticed some "strange" behavior on the patio and called my mother. We were Jehovah's Witnesses. Instead of reporting the abuse or digging deeper, they labeled me homosexual and kicked me out of ministry school. I never told anyone again until my early 20's. I had just gotten married, and after years of self-destructive behavior, downward spiraling through alcohol, drugs and suicide attempts for no reason I could identify, a sudden fall off a stage while in a musical at Indiana University in Indianapolis triggered everything.
This fall led to my becoming a double below knee amputee following the development of severe foot infections, and something about that change in my body triggered the wave of flashbacks. About the same time, my wife relapsed herself and left for a family visit never to return. I was told that she had committed suicide while in Dallas. It would be years later that I would find out she had talked the minister into never filing the marriage certificate. It would also be years later, after hiring an investigator to find out the truth of her whereabouts, I would find out the real reason she left…she was pregnant. Jennifer Lynn Propes was born and died on December 14, 1987. While she was premature, I would later find out her body also bore unexplained marks believed to be the result of my "wife's" intentional actions. I would experience abuse one final time with a therapist who was trying to help me process all of these experiences and to work through my fear of touch…unfortunately, her healthy touch became a four-year sexual relationship.
In 1988, I began exploring positive ways to heal. I organized a 24-hour arts festival to benefit an agency that had given me low-cost counseling. This agency worked specifically with sexual abuse survivors. I put this show together while still living on disability with a budget of about $500. I learned I have a gift for organizing, motivating, and inspiring people. We had 24 hours of non-stop entertainment at the "Compassion Street Festival." A few months later, I had reached the point where I needed to know if there were truly any good people in the world.
I left Indianapolis in my wheelchair with $20 in my pocket and a backpack on my wheelchair. I traveled by wheelchair for 41-days, 1086 miles around the border of Indiana and across it a couple times on what I called "The Tenderness Tour." Instead of finding hopelessness, I found hope. I never went without a meal, a place to stay, a glass of water when I needed it. I started to realize I had a voice that needed to be heard. Here I was this disheveled guy with poor hygiene and out-of-control emotions…yet, people seemed to want to hear what I was saying. I talked to mayors, media, child abuse prevention councils… anyone who would listen, really and a few who didn't want to listen. I returned home and knew that there was hope and that one person could make a difference in the world.
I committed to changing my path, healing my woundedness and teaching tenderness in the world. I decided to finish school and graduated with a Bachelor of Science from Martin University in Indianapolis with a 3.99/4.0 GPA. I never even realized I had a brain. I got a job working at Winona Memorial Hospital in Indianapolis the day after graduation on the inpatient psychiatric unit. I quickly was recognized as gifted in the area of crisis intervention…I would always chuckle when people observed "You do that so naturally." I was thinking to myself "I lived for years in crisis. I know every line, every thought, every game, every obstacle." I also wasn't afraid to companion people through processing even the scariest emotions. I'd been there before…they didn't frighten me anymore.
The Tenderness Tour has continued and is now in its 17th year. I've wheeled over 3,000 miles, raised nearly $200,000 for various children's organizations and spoken to thousands of adults and children nationwide in settings from 1:1 to international conferences. I've offered long-distance and shorter tours from coast-to-coast, and the Tenderness Tour now sponsors the "Tenderness Award" recognizing excellence in serving children. We're a 501c3 non-profit organization, and while I continue to serve voluntarily we have over 50 active volunteers. I've been the recipient of the highest awards for community service in Indiana and Kentucky, and received Prevent Child Abuse America's highest award in the nation for child advocacy in 2004.
When I go on the road now, I'd hesitate to even call myself a survivor. I'm no longer into selling the "drama" of my story. I prefer to focus on the healing, the love, the absolute redefining of who I am and how I live my life. I remain active in all family violence issues including child abuse, domestic violence, and sexual violence. I served four years on the board of directors for Prevent Child Abuse Indiana, and serve currently on a board committee for the Indiana Coalition Against Domestic Violence. I've served on the board of NeoFight, an Indianapolis organization devoted to families experiencing a perinatal crisis. I'm a member of numerous other organizations. In fact, the Tenderness Tour has one distinct feature about it…it's the only all-volunteer organization in the country to donate funds in every civilized nation of the world. On our website, you will also see one of the most extensive worldwide online memorials for child victims of violence. In April 2007, we are honoring child abuse prevention month by establishing the "Tenderness Trail," a nationwide planting of memorial trees to honor child victims of violence.
Finally, I am the author of two published books, "The Secret Heart" on I Am Publishing and "Return to Innocence," a self-published poetry collection. I've also had four plays produced, and am the founder of IndependentCritics.com, a film website. I've also recently become a columnist for Inspire Us magazine. I did finally get back to my ministry roots…I was ordained by The Church Within in Indianapolis, served as its children's minister and, just this year was called into a denominational ministry with Church of the Brethren. I'm now a licensed Brethren minister attending Bethany Theological Seminary in Richmond, Indiana. I am also a board certified expert in traumatic stress by the American Academy of Experts in Traumatic Stress
Contact Info
Websites: http://www.tendernesstour.com
http://www.tendernesstrail.com
Email: tendernesstour@ameritech.net
Q & A
1. What is your favorite coping skill?
Writing is my favorite coping skill. It's what I can do in virtually any mood. I tend to write very honestly and with great emotion. I write a little bit almost every day. There's virtually nothing that heals my emotions like writing. Public speaking is also huge for me.
2. What was the best piece of healing advice you ever received?
Quite honestly, it came from the therapist with whom I had the relationship. One day, long before the therapy turned sexual she sat in her chair and had a blue mitten on. She sat there for hours waiting for me to reach out for her hand…I finally did with one finger. It was all I could do. One day, she gave me those mittens in a frame with the words "Touch can be a loving experience." THAT is the best advice I've ever gotten. It motivates me more than anything else I've ever heard.
3. What was the worst piece of healing advice you ever received?
When the situation with the therapist surfaced, several persons encouraged me to be very vengeful. Quite honestly, I could have destroyed her life. I had all kinds of written proof (and still do). I have yet to see a time when I've considered abusing another human being as a viable option. Being abused doesn't give me the right to abuse someone else. EVER.
4. What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?
1) The physical damage to my body…while I was disabled anyway, the abuse definitely did leave physical scars and damage. I really struggled with "He did ruin me for others."
2) Fear of touch…especially after the therapist, I really struggled with either being completely afraid of touch or feeling sex truly might be my only worth.
3) The death of my daughter. This past year was horrible. She would have been 18. I've only known all the details a couple years, so this is still very fresh for me.
5. Have you ever hit "rock bottom"? What kept you going?
I've definitely hit "rock bottom." Two things have kept me going…first, the "Tenderness Tour" has been my salvation at times and, quite honestly, I've always had at least one person in my life who could manage to reach through the occasional crud and mud of my emotions. I've always had a very small circle of friends, but a very loyal, patient and loving ones.
6. What does forgiveness mean to you?
Forgiveness for me means that my perpetrator and his actions no longer control my thoughts, actions, emotions or destiny. It means that my life is not defined by my abuse…in fact, it's not even defined by my surviving the abuse. My life is defined by my love. This really manifested during my second confrontation of Jeff. The first one was horrible…I was victimized all over again (emotionally). During the second one I could sit there, be myself, express my thoughts, feelings…and actually care about him WITHOUT letting him off the hook for what he'd done. In other words, I was in control of every aspect of who I was…that's when I knew I had reached a point of forgiveness. Of course, it's different for everyone…for me, that's where I needed to go.
7. When did you know that everything was going to be okay -- that you were going to make it?
During the first "Tenderness Tour," I got a glimpse of it. Truthfully, it frightened me. By the second tour, a year later, I had a strong sense that I was going to survive. By the time I started at Martin University, I knew life was changing for the better.
8. Is there anything that you would like to say to someone just beginning their journey?
I would encourage them to stop, breathe and listen more often. This is a hard journey, but the healing journey is one of the most beautiful things you will ever experience. There will be times you are scared out of your mind, but you will be okay. I would also remind them of the basics:
1) You deserve to heal.
2) You're beautiful.
3) You're okay.
4) You deserve to be safe.
5) You did not deserve the abuse…it doesn't matter the excuse given. Abuse is wrong 100% of the time.
6) Find one person you trust to be real with on this journey, even if it has to be a paid therapist.
7) You do not deserve to hurt.
8) There is always hope.
9) You are incredible.
9. If there was one piece of advice you would give, or one thing you would want the significant other, best friend, etc. of a survivor to keep in mind through out the survivors healing process, what would that be?
The survivor may, and probably will, test you in ways that don’t always feel like love. Set healthy boundaries, of course…you cannot compromise your own welfare because that, in and of itself, can become abuse. Yet, also be aware that sometimes the more tests you get the more your love is starting to seep into their soul. They’re testing it, exploring it, maybe even scared of it…but they are feeling it. Over time, it will improve. Be real, communicate, establish safety and, most of all, love.
POETRY
SECRET HEART
There is one secret
I’ve never told anyone.
I want to be held…
Gently
Touched
Rocked
Nurtured
Not
Like a child
But
Like a man
Who simply wants to be loved.
In a safe place,
I want to learn to trust.
I want someone
To understand
My needs
Respect
My body
Embrace
My soul.
I want to know
That I can be loved.
TRAPPED
My telephone was disconnected again yesterday.
My apartment is a mess
And I don’t have the energy to clean.
I live here
In this self-designed
Especially secure
Deluxe-model
Prison.
Isolation
Makes love to me
Daily
Enveloping me
Daily
As I grow more frightened
Of the love
That I so strongly desire.
Yet
I remain loyal
To my old voices
As the prison door
Slams shut
Day
After
Day
After
Day
After
Day
After
Day
After
Day…
HEALING IS
Recognizing that I don’t deserve to be
Hurt
Verbally
Physically
Sexually
Emotionally
Spiritually.
Healing is
Restoring my spirit
My faith
My belief
In myself and others
As well as
My capacity
To be human
And experience joy
And childlike wonder.
Healing is a process
that cannot be manipulated
to fit the needs
of my therapist
my family
my abuser.
Healing is a lifelong
Commitment to myself
And a willingness
To experience my shame
And risk my trust
And test my boundaries
Time and time again.
Healing is the recognition
My scars are deep
And will come back to me
Through the years
Sometimes reducing me
Back to the days of the young child
Cowering in the corner of my closet
Healing is the admission of my memories
To myself and others,
Even the most shameful parts
Of my personal history.
Healing is the conscious return to life
Of the memories I fought for years
To destroy.
Healing is playing
With the essence of my being
And putting together
Pieces of a puzzle
With no clue what the final result
Will even look like.
Healing is grieving
Immense losses
I have experienced
And acknowledging that which might have been
And may now never be.
Healing is to be nurtured
And surrounded with those I can trust
And who are safe
So I can be myself
Vulnerable
Enough to discover the strength
I truly possess.
Healing is breaking the cycle
By acting on my own truth
And erasing the messages
Of my perpetrator
By embracing my journey
And fearlessly walking to freedom.
Healing is feeling
All my feelings
Despite the hurt
The contradiction
The overwhelm
The loss of control.
Healing is loyalty
To myself
And freedom from years of bondage
To my abuser.
Healing is a return to innocence
Through listening
To my child
Finding
Hearing
Believing
My child.
Healing is trusting myself
Enough to know I will find
My way home
And need not be alone through this process.
Healing is becoming proud
Of being a man
And defining my masculinity
to fit my own needs.
Healing is my way of acknowledging
I am special
I am wonderful
I am beautiful
I am priceless in my existence
I am that which I’ve always dreamed I’d become.
Poetry Copyrighted by Richard Propes and Tenderness Tour, Inc.
from the collection “Return to Innocence"
© 2006
LETTER
Dear Elder Bright,
It has taken me years to write you. In fact, it has taken me years to even consider writing you. I’ve been torn between grief, anger, denial and confusion.
You may remember me. I attended the Guion Creek Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses as a child. I loved those days. I knew from my very first message in church at the age of 8 that I was called into ministry. There was truly nothing I ever wanted more. As challenging as my life was because of my disability, when I spoke before a congregation I felt different. I felt okay. I felt like I was whole and able. It didn’t matter what else was going on in my life. I felt happy when I was preaching or teaching or felt like I was serving God and serving humanity.
Our families used to goes to Assemblies together. I knew you well. I knew your wife well. I trusted you completely.
Jeff entered my life, and my entire existence changed. You are probably saying to yourself right now “Who’s Jeff?” It’s rather sad that you don’t know, isn’t it?
My mother came to you one day concerned about a call she’d received from a neighbor. I was seen on a patio partially dressed. Nothing else was known. You and another elder, I believe Elder Burr, met with me. Truthfully, it felt right away like you’d already made up your mind. I tried to say something…I thought to myself “Finally, I get to tell someone.” Yet it seemed you didn’t really want to hear what I had to say. Our meeting was only a few minutes, and it was mostly you talking about my homosexual experimentation. You met with my mother and recommended I no longer participate in ministry school.
The only thing that was bringing me any true joy in life…any connection to God whatsoever…and you were taking it away based upon what? A lie? A misperception? A judgment that wasn’t even remotely accurate? I was 10-years-old, maybe 11. Did you really think I was gay? You just so easily dismissed me…without listening, without compassion, without acceptance…without that love that you’d always preached God has for us.
You’d always told me that Jesus was supposed to be our model for behavior, but you acted more like Judas.
You know what happened. You might even consider it a good thing now. I eventually went away, because I could no longer deal with the rejection of the church. For many years, I turned away from church, from God, from people and from myself. I wanted to die and I kept trying to die…I tried in ways that would blow your mind. There’s only one thing I can assume….God…the same God you kept trying to say found me an abomination kept saving me…time and time and time again.
Anyway, I found my way through it all. I survived. It’s a bit cliché, but I’ve even thrived. I am a minister now, by the way. After I sorted out my childhood and figured out that it was abuse, horrid, vicious and inexcusable abuse that you chalked up to my own personal choice, I knew that at least part of the reason I was called into ministry was that too many people have been hurt by ministers like you…ministers who judge, dismiss, ignore, reject and label when we need you the most.
Want to know what I do? I love. If I know someone is being abused, I report it. I support them, I fight like hell to protect them. I love them. I do the same thing if someone really is gay, really is confused. I think back to you and I know what I have to do. Even if I have an agenda, I have to let it go…because love is more important.
I don’t hate you. I really don’t. In fact, I pray for you often. I pray that, perhaps, I was the exception and not the rule. I pray that you’ve had your eyes opened up. I pray, I really do, that you’ve never been hurt like I have been. Truthfully, I don’t think you could cope with it.
If it seems like I am angry. You’re right. I am. Yet, deep down, what I long for most is to be able to do the thing you couldn’t do when I needed you most. I want to listen, I want to teach, I want to converse, I want to share, I want to pray, I want to learn and, perhaps most of all, I want to forgive.
Peace, Richard
2008 UPDATE
My life lately is centered on the word transition. I'm getting older and, with getting older, I'm having to learn how to make a difference in different ways. My body is becoming less able to handle the physical demand of wheeling. As a survivor, this triggers that sense of being betrayed by my body...It has triggered the sleepless nights, flashbacks and memories all over again. On the positive side, I've been through all of these things and, as an experienced survivor, I know how to handle them with peace, contemplation and, yes, tenderness. On October 8th of this year, the Tenderness Tour celebrates its 19th anniversary and I begin my countdown to the 20th anniversary and, with much prayer and reluctance, my final long distance tour. On October 8, 2009 I will wheel across the state of Indiana one final time. I am hoping to make it my biggest and most effective event ever. We will have a huge bash at the end (I've heard a rumor Joanna from "The Survivor Archive" may even make an appearance!).
This means I am transitioning to new, less physically demanding ways of advocating for survivors. While my body is slowing down, the need to serve remains constant. In the coming months, the Tenderness Network is producing a benefit CD called "Voices of Tenderness- Songs From a Life on the Road" benefiting 2-3 children's organizations (including my own). The Tenderness Trail, the internet's largest online memorial to child victims of violence, is becoming a living and touring exhibit in the coming months. My involvement in the film industry has grown, and we're also beginning to present films to the public that reflect my own values of overcoming violence, choosing peace and ending violence in children's lives. My site, The Independent Critic (http://www.theindependentcritic.com) is currently down while undergoing renovation...watch for its unveiling soon.
As my body changes, I am having to learn new life skills...finding new ways to care for myself, trusting others even more than is comfortable, expressing the need for help and overcoming shame about the sometimes embarrassing ways my body works. While these things are immensely challenging, they are new tools in my toolbox and allow me to become a healthier human being while becoming even more available to love, support, help and heal others.
95% of my days are more glorious than I'd ever imagined possible. The remaining 5% are filled with those valuable life lessons that help me appreciate the 95% even more.
Reader Comments (5)
Thank you for opening up your life so candidly. Your poems touched my soul for I have walked along a similar path. You expressd yourself so beautifully. Thank you for the courage and honesty with everything that you had endure. That will always served as a source of encouragement in my life. And I don't know how to thank you enough for your incredible life example.
Wanyi
Yvonne
BE A VOICE...FOR THE SILENT CHILD!
PEACE,
Amber Lisa