I got into trouble recently. In fact, he is not with me, he is with me. And in general, it all started very well: my daughter and I went to the resort town of Zelenogorsk for a day. An hour on the train, in the pines, on the sand, on the sea – right in the Baltic, only Khrushchev clings to the crowns of trees. All was well, until at the end of the day I saw a woman at the station how a tormentor hit her two children with delight. I gave him a statement, then called the police and wrote about everything on the Internet. And now, for almost a week, I’ve been getting hundreds of letters filled with hatred, anger, and some kind of animal rage. “Creature!” “Instead of such a shooting that escalates into someone else’s family!”
There are also more moderate comments: “You don’t know what happened to them there, maybe the kids were angry.” “In five minutes they may have been reconciled, and here you are with the police.” “Suddenly they started playing and almost drowned?” “Unfortunately, most of the time, children only understand this language.” People even wrote to me that they were grateful to my parents for beating me when I was a child. “I was beaten for curdled snot, now I realize it’s the only way I can be a man.” “My mother was very worried, she was a lone loser, often attacked me – what would I be if a passing aunt sent me to the orphanage with a complaint?”
Of course, I knew that our people could not get rid of patriarchal habits and aspirations yet. But to be honest, I didn’t think the disease was this strong. From year to year, I write columns in the media and on my blog. I inform people about socially significant events, literature, art. I was sure that my audience was, on average, a little more advanced than the consumer of the afternoon series with Arthur Pirozhkov’s songs: nevertheless, to read long readings about Proust, you need some kind of training and stamina, taken within the walls. of the university.
However, it turned out that my fans of foreign press reviews and readers of art film reviews beat their children at home. Or they dream. Or they don’t have children yet, but they are very worried that when they are born, Proust and those who know the political news will be deprived of the right to dispose of other people’s lives.
After all, this is not just a patriarchal feature – it is a remnant of a slave-owning society in which the head of the family is the undivided master and the ruler of the lives of the people who are part of the family and clan. He could sell, barter, rent out the boy, or take him out to be eaten by lions if there wasn’t enough food for everyone. Take a spouse and children and throw them out in a way that not even a kitten can get out today.
A thousand years passed, some alleged formations changed, feudal lords and feudal lords appeared, then manufactures and capitalists. The peasants were again enslaved and liberated. The world seemed to be developing, it was alleged that Russia was following step by step. But it turns out that all this time our mass man trembled about the right to dispose of someone else’s life with impunity and indivisibility.
It would seem, what untouchable shrines can there be in a family where a mother is accustomed to making headlines for her children with her teeth and can’t even contain herself at the station of a resort town? After all, it is clear that in such a family children are chronically beaten for years, and the mother is so full of hatred and is so sure of impunity that she even loses her mind in front of passers-by. No family mystery here. And there is not even a secret – everything is perfectly clear: in a crowded place, and even in St. Hand raised against children in St. Petersburg, accustomed to his work, what kind of conversation can it be? Children need to be rescued.
But just yesterday, kind people, who spoke about the originality of Merab Mamardashvili’s ideas, demand that the family remain untouched. They want thick, strong walls behind which weak and dependent children can dispose of their life and health without division. They count this right from birth twice: First, they were born in a country where such a right is unconditional, and then they gave birth to a right to sacrifice, beating and torture, which they saw as natural.
I knew there were many such people in our country. But I didn’t know how much. All long-enlightened, they know well that beating children will lead to guardianship, police and possibly parental disenfranchisement and a criminal case that will not be closed. They all know, but they stand in their place. Because the right to take anger out on the weak is not even sacred, it is considered natural.
Having a baby is not the typical motivation to have someone to love. Sometimes it seems to me that they give birth in our country so that there is someone to beat them. I once gave an example: we have goats and dogs and cats. And a hierarchy is always established in the herd of goats: the strong middle peasant beats the goat, the middle peasant attacks the weak one. Weak goats beat their own children or the shepherd dog because the shepherd knows that he cannot touch the goat in return. But what if the weakest goat in the herd has no children or does not show his impotence to the dog? It’s getting nervous! Eyes run away, embarrassed, tremble with every hit.
Well, are we doing it? In Russia, beating children is practiced and justified as an act of psychotherapy. When I hear all these chthono saying, “Don’t get involved in someone else’s family,” I understand that there is a person in front of me who is afraid if he is deprived of his right to beat his child. He will go mad with disappointment and his own underdog. Thin, stuffed, hung on loans, smelling of cheap sausage, sour in an office chair, he wants not just the right to beat his children, but complete power over them: the right to dispose of their leisure, their plans, their future. “The first education is for parents, the second is for yourself.” “Your mother knows best what you need.” “Talk to your father again.” “I support you – I decide who you will be.” This is the behavior of a goat who must carve his own children so as not to freak out with stress and not be disrespectful to himself, because he has been cuckolded all his life: the mother herself can give a horn, they shed blood every day so that the stronger goats can crack their foreheads and the owner can shake the stick.
I used to think that such clinging to the right to humiliate your children and hurt them in our people was protected from revenge: they were beaten in childhood – and they were beaten. “I suffered – let us suffer too!” Irrational revenge, the right to make up for the world order.
But I was wrong: Those who get kicked out of life want to rule the children. Look who went to protests against juvenile justice: stuffed aunts, some bus depot secretaries or window deliveries. They defended their exit by going on all these ridiculous marches, signing the recently popular “against family interference” petitions. It’s an openable transom and everyone shouts at it what they think about the world being trampled on them. Grab a belt, raise a fist, and for a moment feel strong, brave, determined – the master of yourself. Soak up that confidence and head to work the next morning in a packed subway, where the boss will humiliate him for ten hours on his tail and mane.
It is no coincidence that child beating and family belt school are more common in families where father beats mother. This is hell. Such a father certainly beats the children, there are a few exceptions.
But in these families, the children have nowhere to go, nowhere to protect and sympathize, because that goat-like mother has received another blow to the teeth from her husband, and immediately raises her hand to take her soul. children. And in general, my observations are that in socially healthy families where no one drinks or does drugs, mothers are more often involved in minor assaults. Because even if they do not get beaten, they are subject to a patriarchal life and oppression: the whole house is on them, the husband decides everything himself, he may not even give money if his wife is on maternity leave. At work, too, everyone bypasses him, the salary is lower than their male counterparts. Of course, he wants to grow in his own eyes, if only for a moment. Shoot through the eyes of the child to feel that he is still the master of at least someone. Now we see on the net how mothers spank, brush their hair, humiliate their children in the street, and we hardly see such random records with men. I think the problem isn’t just that men go out with their kids less – they have slightly less reason to vent their desperation, plus they have a wife on their hands. Most often, the right to beat children is defended by women. It is vital to them.
A few years ago, I told for the first time how, in my childhood, when I was five years old, I stopped attempts to beat me: either my grandmother or my mother, I don’t even remember who, threw a punch at me. belt, so I responded by grabbing something and hitting the criminal with force. And no one in the house would dare beat me again, because the surrender of a five-year-old is already felt and the children are beaten for being helpless and harmless.
How many comments have you received over the years! Ever since I dared to hit my grandma, it’s all about how monstrous a person I am. They still write and write to me, presenting the story as if a grown girl punched a battered old woman in the foot with a staff. But in fact, we are talking about a five-year-old boy and a woman 50-60 years old – the average age of grandmothers. Everything looks completely different when, instead of an old woman, a large woman with a heavy hand appears, with which a belt or a tailor’s wooden mistress is clamped.
But everyone writes and writes to me. What they say, it could be a conversation with a man who hit his grandmother. They didn’t write to me once in the crowd for years: What kind of conversation can there be next with a grandmother who dares raise her hand to a sick five-year-old child? They always protect the grandmother. And they don’t care about her, they don’t feel sorry for her, we don’t feel sorry for old women at all, until recently there was an absurdly bad old woman instead of a grandmother in our folklore. . All of them do not care about someone’s unknown and long-dead grandmother – they defend their right to take their own desperation out of children. And suddenly they feel sorry for themselves, who are openly forbidden to beat them, torture children, use them for stress relief. “I am beaten – I will beat” – half the battle. “I want to beat myself so that I do not go crazy from my own helplessness” – this is exactly how the problem of child abuse in the family sounds today. People are aggressively clinging to the right to beat children, beat their dogs, strangle a kitten from a domestic cat, just to forget for a moment that their lives are hard, their personalities are raped, and the future is foggy. The state will condemn him, and tens of millions of poor people who are so full of life will support him. And until an adult in our country is fed, until he is more or less respected by his compatriots and the state, he will come home and beat the brain of his own child.
The author expresses his personal opinion, which may not coincide with the editors’ position.