You know those moments where something you hear or see jolts you to a pause because something. Just. Doesn’t. Seem. Right? 

And then you have a choice to make?

I’ve been anticipating writing this email for the past 11 months, yet here I sit to finally break my silence, and I’m struggling to find the words to fully encapsulate the anguish.

So, I’ll just start at the beginning; the moment I knew something wasn’t right. 

But before I begin, I want to address a question I know many might be asking. What do we (my husband and I) desire from sharing publicly about this situation?

*Trigger warning for physical abuse.

Let me quickly take you back to 2002, my freshman year of college. I had finally built up enough courage to break up with my high school boyfriend. I drove over to his apartment, went up the three flights of stairs, and met him in his room to explain to him that our relationship was over. He didn’t want it to be true. He shut his bedroom door and positioned himself on the floor in front of it. I wasn’t leaving. After a good amount of time of me trying to talk him into letting me leave; perhaps for hours, I finally built up enough courage to attempt to get past him. I walked toward him to see if he’d move, but that’s when the physical assault began.

I remember being on the bed, hitting the wall, and eventually lying on the floor with a pillow pushed down over my face. 

I remember the distinct sound of “Open up! Moorhead police department!”

Silence.

There was a loud boom as they busted in through the front door. They took him off of me and brought him into the next room. Soon he was handcuffed – but the only way for them to escort him out was to walk down the hallway where his bedroom was. As they walked past the room, I looked up. 

He stopped, and he looked right at me, and said,

“Look what you did.”

This is your fault.

You caused this.

The behavior isn’t the problem, you are.

For a good few years, sadly, I thought this was true. I shouldn’t have broken up with him. I shouldn’t have yelled. This could’ve been avoided had I not gone over there.

Then one day during a counseling session my counselor made a statement I’ll never forget. “All it takes is one person to bring injustice to a stop.”

It became clear for me; the abuse would not have stopped had a woman in the apartment below not alerted someone to my harm. She heard. And she called the police. But she didn’t have to. She could’ve ignored my cries for help. She could’ve chalked it up to thinking my boyfriend would never do such a thing.

But she spoke out. And realizing that she knew something was wrong and taking action helped me heal from believing it was my fault. She stood up for me and she helped. The behavior was wrong; not anything I did.

So why are we sharing? 

For our family to be involved in this has meant risking everything; something we never imagined would be the result of coming alongside victims at a school that claims to care about them and keep them safe. They do not have to carry the burden of this story alone.

We have learned that our desire to walk in love and obedience to the Lord by not covering or excusing sin, is a truth many followers of Christ have left behind to focus on a grace-only approach; one that across the country has been a root cause of the toxic culture that allows long-standing abuses of power and silences victims. 

The decision to share our story has come after much prayer and wise counsel, and we believe is pertinent in light of the false narrative that has permeated our community over the past ten months and especially now. Victims and their families have fearfully stayed silent, already knowing the cost of speaking up. We too learned what they already knew; that in a culture where power, names, and image are protected, there is a price to pay when you ask questions, refuse to blindly trust and submit to authority, or when you don’t bow down to any organization, reputations, or brand, and instead care only about those who’ve been harmed. We share to help followers of Christ know clearly see when they’re part of an unhealthy system, and how to protect children by knowing when behaviors are potentially criminal. 

Because of the fear many of these children and their families face if they speak, we have chosen to speak on their behalf. We share with permission. We never want these students to somehow blame themselves for what happened or to feel that in them speaking they’re the ones doing anything wrong. They are not. They are the brave ones; and we believe them and we honor them. We also share not only for Hillcrest students, but for any child anywhere who’s been harmed, not believed, or shamed when they’ve come forward. I pray through our story, students will feel supported and and adults will be equipped to help rid the church from darkness.

Here is why my husband wants us to share:

“To let the kids know that we’re advocating for them. To bring about justice for these kids who’ve been denied it for years, even decades. It’s now to the point of clearing Amanda’s name as well. Instead of offering ownership and accountability for the past missteps, the school and it’s supporters have resorted to character assassination. She reported the criminal behaviors the school should’ve acted on years ago. Once we blew the whistle, the school victimized us as well – and our story is one parents in our community should know, so that they are able to make decisions that best suit their families. We did not cause the division; the division began the moment students were harmed and the administration did not act to protect them. We are being blamed for harming people’s families; but the people who caused harm are the ones who hurt their own families. People are being told to be careful what they hear yet what we’ve shared has been been directly from the police report, the victims themselves or our own personal attempts trying to work with the school. This illustrates the larger issue at hand. The existing environment doesn’t believe the kids, attacks those who advocate for them and protects those who cause the harm. If this environment doesn’t change, students will continue to get hurt. And no one should be ok with this.”

Our family became part of this terrible story in July 2024 when I was with a fellow Hillcrest mom.

We were about to head to our cars, when one mom asked for prayer. She shared her daughter’s two reports of sexual misconduct in years prior by a teacher at our children’s high school. The parents had gone to the school two separate years with two separate incidents.

I jolted to a pause. Wait. He was still on staff. In fact, over those years and subsequent years, he had been promoted. Twice.

“Hold on”, I said. “How is the school board okay with this? How did they sign off on him still being on staff?

“They don’t know, Amanda.” she replied.

How is this possible? My mind was spinning with confusion. I then asked her if I could call a board member I knew fairly well to inquire about the situation and make sure they were aware of these reports.

What’s interesting, and what I’m grateful for, is that I didn’t pause to consider the affects of me calling the board member before I did it. 

Because when we pause to consider the cost of obeying God’s promptings or His Word, we oftentimes talk ourselves out of the very thing we know we’re supposed to do.

I want to believe I still would’ve made the call. I really want to believe it.

I left and called the board member. She didn’t know anything about these reports. She’d make some phone calls and get back to me.

Soon after I received a phone call back from her, stating that the head of the school would like to meet with me. With me? I thought. I asked if the mom who’s daughter is involved could meet as well, being that she obviously knows the details. “Of course”, she replied. 

When I shared the meeting information with this mom, she suggested I also reach out to another mom to invite her as well. I did. She attended as well.

That same day I walk into a meeting with the board member, president of our school, and three other moms.

It’s difficult for me to even talk about this meeting without feeling a high level of anxiety.

“I’m not sure when all of this began,” said the president. 

“I’ll tell you when this all began,” said one mom. She pulled out a file of papers. “This all began in…..”

She then read, verbatim, what her and her husband had alerted the school of years prior.  

But wait. Wait. This happened before the reports I just learned about this morning? Something happened before this? You knew about a prior report too? Thoughts were swirling around so fast I could barely grab hold of one long enough before another came flooding in.

And then she read from her daughters own account, exactly what the teacher did.

I remember having a physical response as she read it. I knew, as she read each word, that this had not been reported to the police. I remember repeating out loud, “We didn’t mandate a report. We didn’t report this. Oh God, we didn’t protect these kids.”

My heart was racing and anger filled my bones. Tears fell without my permission. I don’t recall the rest of the report she read. 

I remember a time years ago, our daughter was playing at a park with friends. A mom dropped her off and she shared with me that an older gentleman was also at the park. As time went on, the gentleman moved closer and closer to her on the playground, watching her. I’ll never forget her saying in her sweet little voice, “Something didn’t feel right, mommy.”

Something didn’t feel right. 

Perhaps this gentleman was harmless. Maybe my daughter misread the entire situation.

But when something doesn’t make sense and you notice something is off, maybe we lean in. Maybe we are brave enough to ask a question. Perhaps we go down the road of it being true rather than shove it down deep and never acknowledge it’s real.

Looking back on this day, I’m frustrated about many things. First and foremost, the fact that the Lord had ME there this day. Side note, I’d make the call again in a heartbeat.

But more than anything, I’m frustrated that no one else had done the right thing at the school. The teacher would still be there today had I not called. Every staff member who had knowledge of the teacher’s behavior who looked away, dismissed it, or intentionally covered it up, are complicit in the harm done. Why did no one see this was wrong? Why did I have to call? 

Why did no one at the school listen and lean in when something didn’t feel right?

No teacher should be touching the breasts of a student. No teacher should be making sexual comments to a student. No teacher should touch a student in any way that makes them uncomfortable. No teacher should take showers with students.

I fear that in our Christian communities, somehow, the line between wrong and right has gotten blurred. We don’t hear Sunday messages on when to get involved in situations in our community. There aren’t many podcasts talking about when Matthew 18 does and does not apply. How do we handle potentially criminal behaviors in our midst? Is it gossip if we’re sharing information to protect the most vulnerable? What if when we go to the leaders, no action is taken? Are we judging people when we confront sin, or is it biblical? When is sin public vs. private, and which constitutes a public or private repentance?

I want to so badly tell you that calling the board member that day last July spurred on a compassionate, humble, honest response from our school. I want to tell you appropriate actions were taken. I want to tell you we were thanked for alerting the board to these behaviors.

But I can’t. What followed after this meeting has marked the most painful season of our family’s lives. 

Throughout this process, the Lord has made it clear that my job is to rally the truth-seekers, the holy rebels, the advocates, the harmed, and the silenced. We find ourselves in a world of victim-shaming and silencing the very voices calling for Christ to be reflected in our Christian spheres. All around us we see fires of people burning alive and crying out for rescue. The ones tasked to help, have let the flames rise higher. We cannot claim Christ and let them burn.

23 year later, the same statement is being said to me by those perpetuating the harm… 

Look what you did.

This is your fault.

You caused this.

The behavior isn’t the problem, you are

The Christian school we loved is blaming us, not the ones whose behavior harmed the kids.

Does this jolt you to a pause?

What will you do?

Thank you for praying for me and my family. Please, if you think of me, continue to pray. We are just beginning to share our story here and will continue over the coming weeks.

Lord who hears the hurting,

You are not pleased with our sacrifices if they are not accompanied by genuine repentance.Bring us each, individually, before Your throne in deep anguish over our own sin. We repent of our own need to be right, of empty words, of gossip, or idolizing people, things, or places. Father, cleanse us from the inside out. Purify us. Cut away anything that is not of You. We need You; we cannot do anything good on our own. 

Bring our communities to an awakening of who You are; Your love, grace, and truth. Do not let us settle for partial repentance or offerings of repair. Give us Your mighty fire for holiness; unwilling to allow twisted truths, deceit, or confusion. Unite Your church through honest confession.

Tear down any idol existing in our spheres. Abolish darkness within the places claiming Your name.

May our bold courage to SPEAK fan flames of bravery among those harmed. Through our own rising, may those too weak, be held.

Comfort them.

Hold them.

Speak to them.

Rescue them.

In Jesus’ name, amen.