When Systems Fail: The Silent Cost of Looking Away

By: Rebecca Witherspoon, July 30, 2025

It starts as a quiet discomfort—something you see, hear, or sense that just doesn’t sit quite right. Maybe it’s a child’s demeanor that shifts overnight. Maybe it’s a parent’s behavior that seems overly performative or oddly defensive. Maybe it’s the way institutions close ranks when you ask uncomfortable questions they’d rather not answer. You tell yourself not to jump to conclusions. You start to second-guess your instincts. And then … you move on.

And that is how the cycle begins and continues.

We’d all like to believe that if a child was truly in danger, someone—anyone—would step in and say something to help that child. We assume that schools, courts, counselors, and agencies are watching closely enough to intervene when things go wrong. But too often, that faith can be misplaced. Even when warning signs are loud and clear, even when children repeatedly confirm something has happened, even when there is a clear and—in some cases—lengthy record of serious allegations, the systems we rely on can utterly fail to protect the children who need them most.

This series isn’t about a single case. It’s not even about politics or personalities. It’s about patterns—patterns that play out in community after community, often in plain sight. Patterns that many of us sense, but too many of us hesitate to acknowledge or confront.

I speak from deeply personal experience. My own family lived through the kind of trauma most people think only happens to “other people.” My former spouse—who suffered from delusions and paranoid schizophrenia—terrorized me and my children to the point that I was paralyzed by fear, truly believing that if I tried to leave, he would kill us. It took everything I had to finally break free, and unfortunately only after he’d done the unthinkable to one of my children. He was eventually sentenced to prison for what he did, but served only one year—a slap on the wrist for one of the most heinous crimes imaginable. The real sentence was left to me and my children including years of pain, healing, and the added trauma of being re-victimized by school personnel and others in our community who simply didn’t want to believe what had happened—even after a conviction.

Our trust in “the system” was shattered—not just by the abuse itself, but by the ongoing denial and resistance we faced as we tried to rebuild our lives. We fought tooth and nail for healing, and we’re still healing—more than 25 years later. That journey is part of why I’m writing this series. I don’t speak from theory. I speak from lived experience, and I know what it feels like when people look the other way. I’m no longer willing to look the other way when I see the signs and the evidence is staring me in the face.

So Why Do We Look Away?

We look away because the truth can feel extremely uncomfortable. Because we don’t want to be wrong. Because we don’t want to be accused of “starting drama” or “meddling in someone’s personal life.” Because sometimes the person in question is well-connected, has a charming facade, or is someone popular—or even in power. It might be someone running for political office, someone in your church, or someone in your children’s school. It could be someone you’ve trusted to care for your children. Sometimes, it’s even the parent of the very child you fear is being abused. And sometimes—frankly—we just don’t want to believe that the people around us could be capable of something so evil, especially toward a child.

But even when we do want to speak up, directly calling out abusive behavior can feel far too risky—especially when others have tried before, only to see the abuser face no consequences, the children suffer retaliation, and the person who raised the alarm become the next target.

So the question becomes: How can someone speak up without causing further harm to the children or putting a target on their own back?

The reality is that abuse, neglect, and the endangerment of children don’t always come with bruises or news headlines. Sometimes it’s hidden from public view and shows up as children being forced to live in chronic fear—When will I be screamed at again? When will I be hit again? When will they burn me again? When will my belongings be thrown out the window? When will they touch me in “that” way again?

It can also take the form of one parent being silenced by the abusive parent—through unfair custody agreements or very real threats of retaliation if the protective parent dares to speak up. It can even come from a system that tells victims their word isn’t enough, and that they must wait their turn, stay quiet, or prove it all over again.

If children can’t trust the very people who are supposed to protect them, who can they trust? And when courts and other systems fail to hold the abuser accountable, chronic fear takes hold—and hopelessness becomes the abused child’s reality.

The Failure Is Systemic

When the courts grant full or partial custody to a parent with a known history of allegations of abuse—because they “can’t be sure”—that’s a failure. When schools and counselors report suspected abuse, but nothing happens, that’s a failure. When a protective parent is threatened with retaliation for trying to shield their children by the abusive parent, that’s a failure. When communities rally behind someone without doing their due diligence—ignoring and even attacking anyone who dares to speak up—simply because that person fits a political narrative or serves as a convenient puppet for manipulative actors, that is also a failure. And when no one is willing to step forward and call out those who perpetuate and enable the continued abuse, that’s a failure.

This blog series will explore the many forms of institutional and community silence—from family courts to school districts to political circles. We’ll examine how manipulative individuals exploit these systems and leverage abusive individuals to advance their own agendas. We’ll also look at how good people are pressured or intimidated into silence, and how the true cost is ultimately borne by children, protective parents, and entire communities

This Is About More Than One Child. It’s About All of the Children.

Every child who slips through the cracks represents a community failure. Not because we can prevent every bad actor from existing, but because too often, we make it far too easy for them. We give them cover with our silence. We hand them credibility when we ignore the signs and promote them uncritically. We diminish victims and tell them they aren’t worthy when we pretend not to see.

Over the coming weeks, this series will take a deep, thoughtful look at:

• The warning signs of different types of abuse
• How abusers manipulate court systems and public opinion
• The toll on protective parents, educators, and children themselves
• What real community accountability and advocacy should look like

It’s not enough to shake our heads in hindsight. We need to build a culture of proactive vigilance. A community where we hold each other to higher standards—not for the sake of power, but for the sake of people, and because it’s the right thing to do.

If you’re uncomfortable already, good. That means you’re actually paying attention.

Stay with me. It’s time to talk about what too many people have chosen to ignore and are too afraid to expose. It’s time to do the right thing.

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If Something Feels Wrong, Trust Your Gut.

Children can’t always speak up—but you can. You can be their voice. If you see or sense something that feels off, don’t ignore your instincts. Say something—but do so responsibly. This isn’t about personal vendettas or disliking someone. It’s about protecting the vulnerable and doing what’s right. You can make a report anonymously to help safeguard children and families—without exposing yourself to retaliation.

In Dane County, Wisconsin, suspected abuse and/or neglect can be reported 24/7 to:
Dane County Child Protective Services (CPS)
📞 (608) 261-5437
🌐 Reports can also be made via WI Department of Children and Families at https://dcf.wisconsin.gov/reportabuse
Your name can remain confidential—even to the person being reported.

Together, we can create a safer, more accountable community—one voice at a time.