Is Our Family Court System Causing Blood in the Streets?
by Judy Parejko    -    November 2002

http://www.stolenvows.com/sniperstory.htm

Robert Flores walked onto the campus of the University of Arizona at Tucson and opened fire on three of his female instructors, murdering them in cold blood. In his 22-page letter, discovered later by investigators, Flores sketches his failed marriage, poor health and the slights he perceived from a nursing school he claimed treated male students as "tokens."

In the Washington area, accused sniper, John Muhammad, targeted innocent people, shooting them down like prey. His 17-year-old accomplice, John Malvo, was also believed to have pulled the trigger. The story reveals at least three divorces -- two were Muhammad's and one was Malvo's parents -- as well as several child custody battles.

It's not politically correct to connect the dots, but a picture is coming into focus. Could it be that our family court system is causing blood in the streets? Somehow, these men came unhinged, turned into killers. Why? That's the question we all want answered. A common theme running through both cases is alienation from family. Could it be time to take a hard look at how we handle cases in family court and, instead of severing men from their loved ones, offer to help repair these families? Can we afford not to?

"Failed marriage" is code for "hopelessness" -- the understanding that quick-and-expedient divorce is firmly in place. In fact, there's no way to stop a divorce or get help for a troubled marriage, no matter how hard someone begs for it. And "child custody" is code for the coveted spoils of divorce.

A family court hearing is a grim event. While most unwilling participants learn somehow to cope, others begin to simmer, reaching a boiling point that can culminate in regrettable and unspeakable acts. The function of family court is to dismantle families -- take them apart and divide up the pieces. Providing needed help so estranged spouses might heal and restore their troubled marriages is not part of the formula. And, by dealing with family distress in this way, we've unwittingly invited the grim reaper to play a larger role in our lives.

The carnage of family breakdown spills out of the courtroom and into our daily lives. The "victims" are no longer simply family members -- gunned down by their desperate loved ones -- but increasingly include innocent bystanders.

The divorce mill casts its victims aside, leaving men like Flores and Muhammad unmoored from their families and unhitched from society. Cut off, lost at sea, they send out distress signals by way of their aggressive acts when life starts closing in on them -- but no one hears. And when the system told Muhammad -- like so many other men -- he could no longer be a father, even if he fought for it, battled for custody and went so far as to "steal" his kids, he snapped.

The story of Muhammad's metamorphosis from a family man into a serial killer is not understood yet, but this story, like others, points to an alarming association between the loss of family connection and outlaw-behavior.

Family court is a euphemism. In reality it acts like an insidious monster, taking chopped-up pieces of families and packaging them into neat and manageable little bundles called "custody" and "visitation". But, we reap what we sow, and blood in the courts is leading to blood in the streets.

What we have is the worst possible response to family distress. Instead of offering compassion and helping hands, family courts evict fathers from their children's lives and cut off contact with the one person who might -- along with skilled assistance -- calm such angry men. The "medicine" for distressed relationships is available but we fail to provide it, either because we don't care enough or because we aren't ready to face the awful truth of what we are doing.

For those who face the family court system, hoping for a humane response, no plea for mercy will be heard. "One-size-fits-all" is the current scheme called no-fault divorce -- another euphemism which really means "forced" divorce. Troubled marriages are snuffed out by an official dressed in black who is allowed no other choice. This place called "court" could more truthfully be labeled the "Ministry of Divorce" since no "judgments" are made here -- foregone conclusions are simply rubber-stamped.

Divorce and family disputes are viewed merely as "legal" problems -- business-deals brokered by the well-paid officials handling them. No crisis-response is offered to the casualties on the battlefield. No ambulance. No trauma team. No hospital. Only harsh and heavy-handed tactics used to finish off the job.

It's too sordid to look at things this way -- that family court carnage might be responsible for the carnage on the streets -- and most people will find every reason not to.
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Judy Parejko is the author of Stolen Vows, The Illusion of No-Fault Divorce and the Rise of the American Divorce Industry, with ordering information available at www.stolenvows.com