A Child Called “it”
A Child Called “it”
There is much to admire about Dave Pelzer. He proudly served his country during Desert Storm, and has received commendations from Presidents Reagan, Bush the First, and Clinton for his work as a motivational speaker. His other honors include being named Californias Volunteer of the Year in 1990, one of 1993s Ten Outstanding Young Americans, and one of the Outstanding Young Persons of the World for 1994. In addition, he is a best-selling author and a loving husband and father. Thats a lofty set of accomplishments for any man, yet what I admire most about Dave Pelzer is that he didnt grow up to be an abusive, alcoholic, psychotic mess. He certainly had reason to.
Pelzer is the survivor of the third worst case of child-abuse in Californias history, a case he vividly recalls in A Child Called “It”. Here he tells of a childhood so horrific and, at times, so nauseating that while reading I found myself praying that there was a hell so Pelzers parents could rot in it for all eternity. And not just hell, mind you, but a special place in hell designed specifically for people like this, a level of hell beyond anything Dante could imagine.
The tale starts with The Rescue, March 5, 1973. Having had his head smashed into the kitchen counter that morning for some minor offense, the 12-year-old Dave is sent to the school nurse upon arriving at school. It is a familiar routine for the child; he lies to the nurse about the bruise on his head, spouting the ridiculous explanation his mother has instructed him to recite. The nurse, once again, doesnt believe him and checks her file on the boy. Bruises, cuts, malnutrition, and, of course, the stab wound: its quite a thick file.
On this day, March 5, the nurse has had enough and the schools principal and the local police are called. In no time, young Dave is in a police cruiser, being taken to the San Mateo Juvenile Department, never to return home. It is important that Pelzer begin his story here, with the event he credits for saving his life. Knowing that there is an end to the suffering Dave endures allows the reader to make it through some of the books more difficult passages. By books end, most readers will be amazed and grateful that Pelzer survived long enough to be rescued.
The young Daves life wasnt always hell on earth. The third of four boys in the Pelzer family, he describes his early years as a “Brady Bunch” existence, full of family picnics, holiday frivolity, and his mothers wonderful cooking. Catherine, Daves mother, loved to cook exotic meals for her family and decorate their home in creative and imaginative ways each holiday season. She was full of energy, often taking her kids on tours of downtown San Francisco while her husband was at work, exposing them to Golden Gate Park and Chinatown. Once, while on a family camping trip, young Dave was watching the sunset when he felt his mother embrace him from behind and watch the sunset with him over his shoulder. “I never felt as safe and warm as at that moment in time,” he recalls.
But then, his mother changed. Slowly at first, but drastically. Her behavior became erratic and her drinking increased heavily. She became easily frustrated, and it seems that her biggest source of frustration was Dave, the loudest and wildest of her children. And thus, Daves nightmare began. Pelzer is never clear on what caused this drastic change in behavior; most likely, he doesnt know and never will. This was the Sixties and people in suburbia didnt discuss things like mental illness and child abuse. Too often, family secrets back then stayed deeply hidden, as was the case in the Pelzer family.
Catherines descent into madness went unchecked by those around her, particularly her husband, whose job as a fireman often kept him away from the family for days at a time. She found any excuse to punish Dave, while favoring her other children, and her punishments grew more demoralizing the older he got. Initially, she would slap him, smash his face into the mirror and make him repeat “Im a bad boy!” or require him to search for hours for an item she had “lost.” But with time, her cruelty grew to include denying him food for days on end, making him sleep on a cot in the basement, forcing him to wear the same unwashed shirt and pants to school every day for three years, and referring to him only as the boy or it.
As if those experiences werent damaging enough, she also devised special punishments for him, such as turning on the stoves burner and laying the naked boy across the stovetop. Many are her “punishments” are too sickening to describe in the space available here, and to do so would destroy much of the