Millennial Perspectives

Alice Munro, Child Abuse, and Uncomfortable Conversations

—by Laura Proctor

Having “the uncomfortable conversation” might feel like the worst thing in the world, but it might be the best thing we can ever do. 

Like many Canadians, I woke up the other day to Alice Munro’s name trending again, two months after her death. 

Alice Munro’s daughter, Andrea Robin Skinner, recently publicly disclosed the fact that she was sexually abused by her stepfather, Gerald Fremlin. Skinner also shared that her mother knew about the abuse for decades, remained with Fremlin, and reacted to the news from Skinner as if she had been betrayed by her daughter and was the victim of infidelity. Fremlin was eventually charged with indecent assault against Andrea and pleaded guilty in 2005. Munro stayed with Fremlin until he passed away eight years later.

The abuse was always swept under the rug. Skinner’s mother failed her on so many levels. Her father also failed her, when Skinner disclosed the abuse to him, and he didn’t have the uncomfortable conversation with Munro or Fremlin. 

Skinner’s stepmother failed her, when she stopped at simply telling Skinner’s father about the abuse, and telling Skinner that she didn’t have to see Fremlin if she didn’t want to. The stepmother did not take things further. 

They did not protect Andrea Skinner. They did not have the uncomfortable conversation. 

Fremlin lost interest in Skinner when she was no longer a child. 

Skinner told her mother in 1992 about the abuse, when Skinner was 25. She was struggling with an eating disorder, insomnia, and migraines. She’d dropped out of the University of Toronto. The trauma had forever changed her. 

The number of families who have hidden childhood sexual abuse is staggering. These family members would rather sweep things under the rug than be the one to cause embarrassment and conflict. The outcome is a woman’s entire life being negatively impacted forever; and the ripple effects reach her siblings, her partners, her friends, and her children. 

We have likely all found ourselves stopping short of these conversations; not speaking up when a friend, acquaintance or stranger says something offensive or hurtful. Not bringing up an issue in a romantic relationship because we don’t want to wade into troubled waters. 

The conversations left unspoken create wounds. The secrets and resentment fester. Relationships, families, and individuals suffer. 

It’s difficult to be vulnerable and honest, bringing an issue to someone and receiving a reaction that we can’t predict. But this is a way to break a cycle, whether it’s sexual abuse or simply a family’s lack of communication. 

Another way to help break unhealthy cycles is perhaps spoken about less: being someone to whom others feel they can talk. Skinner predicted that her mother would react poorly to the revelation and not see that Skinner was a victim. Unfortunately, that prediction was correct. This is why Skinner didn’t tell her mother about the abuse for years. 

The ability to hold space for others, to listen, to not overreact, and to not jump into “fixing” mode is an under-appreciated soft skill. With this skill, we can be a safe harbour for family and friends. People will be more likely to open up to us and be vulnerable. We might be the first they have “the uncomfortable conversation” with. And together, maybe we can break a cycle. 

We can have these uncomfortable conversations, because some discomfort is okay. 

But to fail to protect others, especially children? That is not okay.