Whistle-Blower #13

    After the luncheon with the other social services directors of the Tidewater Region in Virginia where one director said resignedly, "Well, I guess we're all going to have to provide Betty's [Copland's] therapy," and I urged them not to, citing the death of her pregnant foster child, I heard nothing for a while. One day, Jennifer Gaylor, my one eligibility worker, said to me, "I hear that Betty's coming after you." I didn't even ask why. I was totally isolated from people because of my shame about the "therapy" I was getting from the psychiatrist. It was not because I was engaging in a homosexual relationship but because I was being duped by the psychiatrist and cheating on my girlfriends. At least in those days, the Africans still in Africa were leaving the green monkey alone.  I didn't want to get close to people because I was afraid of being asked questions, and I certainly did not want to ask any questions for fear I'd be asked questions in turn. Instead, I passively waited for Betty to strike. I didn't think of warding off the strike by going to the media to tell them why she was coming after me. I simply read the newspapers waiting to see when and what it would be. Summer progressed into fall, and my mother from Idaho came to visit. I was reading the paper one morning, and I explained that Jennifer Gaylor had said that Betty Copland was coming after me, so I was watching the papers. All she said was, "Oh." No alarm. No questions.  I fully appreciate how unhumanly cold that remark was now that I have children. If my son or daughter were to tell me someone was coming after them the last thing I would say was "Oh. Pass the sugar please." I would want to know what was going on. I would insist on knowing or I would leave. My child would not commit vocational suicide if I could do anything about it! If I had to leave because my child wouldn't tell me what was going on, I'd check into a nearby motel and start looking into things even if it took a private investigator. Looking at my Mom's response, I have to wonder if part of my lack of a response to Betty was because of genetics. How could I have been so passive? Peter Nickerson, MS, MSW.