Wednesday, 29 November 2017

The CIA wrote a torture manual more than 50 years ago

It was long suspected that the CIA was in the business of torture. But in 1997, the American public saw chilling, irrefutable written proof. But the document is not easy to read, writes Laura Smith in Timeline. Read on: 

It was long suspected that the CIA was in the business of torture. But in 1997, the American public saw chilling, irrefutable written proof.

Thirty years before that, the agency put together what would become known as the Bible of “coercive interrogations.” Drawn from human studies from the National Institute of Mental Health, the manual is a sort of “how-to” for getting information out of resistant sources, laying the foundation for techniques that would be used for years to come: “arrest, detention, deprivation of sensory stimuli through solitary confinement or similar methods, threats and fear, debility, pain, heightened suggestibility and hypnosis, narcosis, and induced regression.”

KUBARK, as the manual was known (a reference to the CIA’s codeword for itself), was a 128-page document. It contains two references to the use of electric shock, warning that since interrogation under duress might involve illegality, agents should get approval “if medical, chemical, or electrical methods or materials are to be used to induce acquiescence.”

It also cautioned that when selecting an interrogation site, “the electric current should be known in advance, so that transformers and other modifying devices will be on hand if needed.”

Many of the recommended techniques rely on sensory deprivation: “An environment still more subject to control, such as water-tank or iron lung, is even more effective.”
On the nature of pain, one disturbingly matter-of-fact passage explains:


KUBARK was born into the climate of fear of the spread of Communism after the Cuban Revolution. The U.S. was propping up pro-American governments in Latin America — even if the opposition was democratically elected, as was the case in Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Nicuragua, and El Salvador, to name a few.

In 1983, KUBARK became the basis for the Human Resource Exploitation Training Manual, another CIA interrogation document, with whole passages lifted from KUBARK. Additions from Army field manuals known as “Project X,” an effort to battle communism in Latin America, were also added. “Project X” advocated tactics such as kidnapping rebels’ family members. Similar Spanish-language manuals were circulated by the CIA and Green Berets to train American-friendly militia in the 1980s.

The 1983 manual was discussed in Senate Intelligence Committee hearings in 1988 because of human rights atrocities committed by the CIA-trained Honduran military, Battallion 316, which the Center for Justice and Accountability called a “death squad.” CIA operatives trained them “side by side” with torturers from Argentina’s “Dirty War.” Demonstrations were done on live prisoners.

Battalion 316 would arrive in unmarked cars and whisk people away for violent interrogations. They disappeared 184 people whose bodies were never found, not to mention the many who were tortured and survived — many of whom were “peaceful leftists.”

Torture tactics used on Iraqi prisoners at Abu Ghraib adhere to those described in a 1963 CIA manual. (AP)
After the congressional investigation into Battalion 316, George Washington University’s National Security Archive noted that the CIA attempted to anodize the manual by crossing things out and editing by hand, leaving the original text clearly visible beneath.

The passage, “We will be discussing two types of techniques, coercive and non-coercive. While we do not stress the use of coercive techniques, we do want to make you aware of them” became “while we deplore the use of coercive techniques, we do want to make you aware of them so that you may avoid them.”

In 1997, the Baltimore Sun obtained copies of the two manuals, both the 1963 KUBARK and the 1983 manual through the Freedom of Information Act. A less heavily redacted version was released by the government in 2014 after the manuals were discussed during investigations into the United States’ post 9/11 torture programs.

KUBARK’s influence can be traced to more recent tactics at Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib. As Joseph Margulies, the lead counsel in one of the first case on behalf of Guantanamo detainees explained, the sensory deprivation developed from the KUBARK manual directly shaped the methods used in Guantanamo. “Everybody saw, I think, the first pictures of prisoners arriving at Guantanamo and they were in blackout goggles and soundproof earmuffs. That in itself is part of the overarching approach.”

For all of its horror, the original KUBARK manual offered a prophetic warning that would be repeatedly disregarded in the ensuing years: “The routine use of torture lowers the moral caliber of the organization that uses it and corrupts those that rely on it….”

Anita Nair comes up with a book of Quran stories for kids

Anita Nair’s gorgeus new children’s book, Muezza and Babyjaan: Stories from the Quran, illustrated by Harshad Marathe, sees Muezza, the Prophet Muhammad’s cat, narrating stories to Babyjaan, an adorable baby camel with lashes to sigh over. Full of shape-shifting djinns, desert animals and the 99 names of god, there’s something so compelling about the story, and it made us wonder why exactly she decided to write it, and how she settled on these particular characters.

Anita Nair will be at the Times Litfest Bengaluru 2017, presented by ACT Fibernet this weekend. On the 11th of February, she’ll be part of a panel discussion on the concept of the noir hero, and on the 12th of February, she’ll be reading from her new book.

The team of The Ladies Finger spoke to Anita Nair about what made her write this book, her writing process and her immense productivity as a writer. Edited excerpts from the conversation:


Your children are grown up now. Why children’s books now?
I’ve written five children’s books before. I think I write them for the manic child jumping around within me.

What different kind of skills does it take to write a children’s book?
It’s the tone that you really have to think about when writing for children. When you’re writing for a child, you can’t talk down to them, but while sounding all buddy-buddy, I always try to weave in some nuance, some kind of life lesson for them, maybe through humour or an anecdote.

The other thing is, when writing for adults, you’re talking to your peers, plus, you have some leeway. Adults judge books based on various factors, like what other people have said about the book, for example. They also give a book a chance. Even if the first page is boring, they think maybe it’ll pick up by page five. With kids, you don’t have that luxury — if it isn’t interesting right from the first page they aren’t going to read the book, so you have to be much edgier, and in a way, go back to being a child yourself. I try to find a way to use a child’s point of view while using adult techniques.

Do you have to go into a separate zone, so to speak, when writing children’s books?
Not really. As a full-time writer, it would be tough for me to write the same things again and again, so working on many books simultaneously allows me to switch head spaces and get out of that zone a little.

What made you decide to write this particular book?
I had very very specific reasons for deciding to write this book. I’ve been feeling so uneasy about the rising intolerance all around. There just seems to be such a profound lack of understanding, even among my own close circle of friends and family, who’re otherwise lovely people. I notice even bleeding heart liberals disparaging Islam so casually. There’s such a lack of inclusiveness that I notice generally.

When I was writing Idris, I had to delve into the Quran, and I found myself wondering so many times, why didn’t I know this already without having to set out to do specific research? I mean, I’m not Muslim myself, I’m a Hindu, and while I had a very secular upbringing, I had no real meaningful access to the Quran, and it’s like that for a lot of us. There are so many myths and veils around the Quran that it’s important to know what actually in it. I’m not some kind of Quran expert myself, but I can tackle stories in it. And I wanted to do that through a children’s book; children are so much easier to get through to.


Can you tell me a bit about the characters, Muezza and Babyjaan, and how you decided upon them?
So when I decided to write this book, I was thinking of how to locate it, in a literary sense. So while reading, I randomly came across the fact that the Prophet had a cat that he was very fond of. I have lots of cats myself, and I know that they’re very intelligent creatures — very different, no dithering, they know exactly what they want. So I thought having a cat who lived in close proximity to the Prophet would be a great voice to speak through, also so that it wouldn’t be me talking, it would all be through the voice of the cat. That also made it easier to write these stories.

Then it came to the next character, whom the cat would be speaking to. It really came to me so randomly, like a lightning bolt. I was reading about djinns, and learned that there was a category of djinn called jaan that takes the form of a white camel. So I decided to name her Babyjaan, since she’s a baby camel, and the name also has a really nice Arabic flavour to it.

What is your writing process like — do you have a routine? On a good day, how many words do you average?
I do have a routine. I’m definitely a morning person, I’m an early riser and I work best in the mornings. I’m done writing by 11.30 am and I spend the rest of the day reading and doing other things. I average about 1,000 words a day.

Do you have tips for other people to increase their writing productivity?   
Well, I would say two things in particular, discipline and planning. You can’t do “maybe”, you have to plan your writing and be realistic. Don’t aim for too much, or you’ll end up with backlogs. Also, if you like what you do, you sometimes don’t want to stop. Sometimes, when I’m reading or researching or writing something interesting, I just keep going. But you also should know when to stop, else you get fatigued. Writing is a bit like marathon running, you have to pace yourself.

Would you consider yourself a productive person?
Well, I don’t really consider myself a productive person. But then when I look at my body of work, it seems that I am.

10 questions journalists should ask themselves before going live on Facebook

Journalists will look back years from now and remember a time when only TV and radio stations had the quick capacity to "go live" from anywhere, writes Al Tompkins is the Poynter. Read on:  

Facebook Live came of age this week in the way that radio did in World War II, TV did when John Kennedy was killed, cable TV did during the first Gulf War and Twitter did in the Arab Spring.

Journalists will look back on this week years from now and remember a time when only TV and radio stations had the quick capacity to "go live" from anywhere. In the last two days we have watched in horror as Diamond Reynolds went live from the front seat of her car while her boyfriend, Philando Castile, was slumped dying beside her. A day later, Dallas newsrooms were streaming coverage of police under attack from a sniper. Protestors from coast to coast livestreamed their marches. And in little more than a week, two solid weeks of tension will begin unfolding at national political conventions.

Since 2014, a series of videos posted on social media have shaped the national conversation about how and when police use deadly force. The videos sparked protest, occasional violence and, importantly, new police procedures. But now, the videos are not just recordings, we are watching them unfold live from the point of view of the people most closely involved.

It would be smart for newsrooms and anyone else practicing journalism to think about the following questions before going live:



  1. Beyond competitive factors, what are your motivations for going live? Why do your viewers need to know about this story before journalists have the opportunity to filter the information offline? What verification processes are you willing to give up in order to get information to viewers quickly? How would instantly available live information help the public to stay safe and minimize chaos and quell rumors?
  2. Am I speculating about fatalities, injuries, weapons, motivations and descriptions? It can be tempting to "fill time" while you are live and no new information is coming in. Don't trust eyewitness descriptions or even your own eyewitness view as being the whole truth. Keep asking what you are not seeing, what you don't know and what you need to know to fully understand the events.
  3. When, if ever, would you link to or share a live feed that comes from the person who is at the center of the story? We have already seen cases of shooters who are streaming their grievances live on social media. How willing are you to give that person a live unfiltered public platform?
  4. Would you publish or air whatever you are streaming live? Your social media feed should not have a lower standard for truth-telling and reliability. When journalists moved from regularly scheduled broadcasts and print publishing schedules to nonstop online reporting, they adjusted to the responsibility that demands quick and thoughtful responses. Now, they must adapt again to the new ethical demands of live video reporting.
  5. Are you prepared to broadcast the worst possible outcome that could result from this unfolding story, such as a person killing themselves or someone else during live coverage? What outcomes are you unwilling to post? Why? How do you know the worst possible outcome will not occur?
  6. How do you know the information you're relaying live is true? How many sources have confirmed the information? How do the sources you are quoting know what they say is true? Is your source reliable? How willing is the source to be quoted?
  7. What are the consequences, short-term and long-term, of "going live" with the information? What are the consequences of waiting for additional confirmation?
  8. What is the tone of the coverage? Can you raise awareness of a significant event while minimizing unnecessary hype and fear? Who in your newsroom is responsible for monitoring the tone of what is being streamed?
  9. Have you considered adopting any safety nets that could minimize harm? These measures can give you a contingency plan to stop broadcasting if the situation turns graphic, violent or compromises the safety of others.
  10. How clearly does the newsroom understand standards for graphic content? How well are guidelines understood by everyone from online editors, reporters, photojournalists, web producers or others who might have to make an editorial call when the formal decision-maker is not available?

50,000 free hot meals a day at the Golden Temple

Since the time of Guru Nanak, the first guru of the Sikh people who started the tradition in 1481, the Golden Temple in Amritsar has been serving free hot meals, also known as langar, to people of all religions and faiths who come to its doors every day.

Free langars are served at all Sikh gurudwaras, wherever they may be in the world. But the langar at the Golden Temple is special indeed. This does not have so much to do with the quality of the food, which is always delicious, but for the sheer scale of the operation and the number of devoted volunteers who prepare it with much love, every single day of the week.

Here are 10 things you must know about the langar at the Golden Temple, the largest free kitchen in the world:


1. Meals in the langar are vegetarian, and are simple, nourishing and nutritious. They usually consist of rotis (bread), rice, daal (lentils), a vegetable dish, and kheer (dessert).

2. The langar at the Golden Temple serves a massive number – 50,000 people a day! On holidays/religious occasions, the number often goes up to 100,000!

3. The kitchen has two dining halls, which have a combined capacity of 5000 people. People come and sit down to eat on the mats on the floor, are served food by the volunteers, and are ushered out politely to make room for the next round of diners.

4. Serving these many people day after day is no easy task, but the clockwork efficiency of the sewadars (workers) makes the task simple. Usually, 90% of the working staff is made up of volunteers who, along with the 300 permanent sewadars, ensure the food is cooked and delivered on time. Some people volunteer for a few hours, some for a day, while others volunteer for days on end!

5. There are two kitchens in which the food is prepared. There are 11 hot plates (tawa), several burners, machines for sieving and kneading dough, and several other utensils. On normal days, all the dishes are hand made by the sewadars.

6. On holidays and religious occasions, a roti making machine (donated by a Lebanon based devotee) is used, which can churn out 25,000 rotis in just 1 hour!

7. Given the numbers of diners, imagine the amount of raw material needed! About 50 quintals of wheat, 18 quintals of daal, 14 quintals of rice, and 7 quintals of milk are consumed daily in the langar kitchen. One hundred gas cylinders are needed to cook the food.


8. Most of the raw materials are brought from Delhi, or bought locally. The kitchen receives a lot of donations too, either in cash or kind.

9. Normal cooking vessels don’t suffice for cooking such vast quantities of food. Instead, the langar uses large vats that can store as much as 7 quintals of daal or kheer at a time!

10. Hygiene is of utmost importance, both before and after meals. Dirty plates are handed over to another set of volunteers. Each plate is washed 5 times before being used again.

The selflessness and generosity of the volunteers at Harmandir Sahib shows that not only is this beautiful temple made of gold, but so are the hearts of the devotees who come to worship here.

(Source: The Better India)

When kids have to act like parents, it affects them for life

Some people who have to be responsible for their siblings or parents as children grow up to be compulsive caretakers, writes Cindy Lamothe in the Atlantic. Read on: 

Laura Kiesel was only 6 years old when she became a parent to her infant brother. At home, his crib was placed directly next to her bed, so that when he cried at night, she was the one to pick him up and sing him back to sleep. She says she was also in charge of changing his diapers and making sure he was fed every day. For the majority of her early childhood, she remembers, she tended to his needs while her own mother was in the depths of heroin addiction.

From as early as she can remember, Kiesel says she had to take care of herself—preparing her own meals, clothing herself, and keeping herself entertained. At school, she remembers becoming a morose and withdrawn child whose hair was often dirty and unkempt.

It was a dark time made even bleaker by her mother’s violent outbursts. “During dope sickness, she would unleash a lot of fury onto me,” said Kiesel, a 38-year-old freelance writer. “I became the buffer or scapegoat of her rage to divert it [from] my younger (much more defenseless) brother.” (Kiesel’s mother is no longer living.)

At one point, she says she learned to take her small brother and kitten into their bathroom and barricade the door to keep them safe. “I felt a lot of weight on my shoulders, like my brother could die without me there,” Kiesel remembers.

She started breaking out in severe hives for months at a time, which she believes were triggered by the “burden of loneliness and responsibilities at that age.” Becoming responsible for an infant at such a young age came with a toll, she explained. “I sometimes picked on my brother or was quick to shove or slap his arm because I was overwhelmed and didn’t know how to handle the shrieks of a 2-year-old when I was 8.”

“It’s been a challenge for me to separate out feeling like I’m a parent to them.”
Eventually, at age nine, Kiesel and and her 3-year-old brother were taken in by their grandparents, but the trauma of their former living situation stayed with the children. By the time Kiesel was 14, she says she suffered from daily panic attacks, OCD, and depression. It wasn’t until she was older, she says, that she began to understand the connection between her childhood experiences and numerous chronic illnesses.

Kiesel’s story is one of what psychologists refer to as destructive parentification—a form of emotional abuse or neglect where a child becomes the caregiver to their parent or sibling. Researchers are increasingly finding that in addition to upending a child’s development, this role reversal can leave deep emotional scars well into adulthood. Many, like Kiesel, experience severe anxiety, depression, and psychological distress. Others report succumbing to eating disorders and substance abuse.

“The symptoms look similar to some extent, from cradle to grave,” said Lisa M. Hooper, a professor at the University of Louisville and prominent parentification researcher. Some of these behaviors start out in childhood, and become exacerbated in adulthood, she explains.

“Children’s distrust of their interpersonal world is one of the most destructive consequences of such a process,” writes Gregory Jurkovic in his book Lost Childhoods: The Plight of the Parentified Child.

While there is a large body of literature that focuses on the neglect children experience from their parents, there’s less examination of how this neglect puts kids in roles of parenting each other. And there is virtually no empirical research on how this affects relationship dynamics later in life—both with siblings and others. Scholars agree that there are gaps in sibling research—primarily an incomplete understanding of how these relationships and roles are affected by abusive family environments. Hooper noted that “the literature is very scarce in this area.”

In Kiesel’s case, looking after her brother as a kid has led to a tenuous and chaotic relationship with him over the years, fraught with bouts of estrangement and codependency. Though they remain close,  there were periods where she and her brother didn’t speak for months at a time. “My brother is constantly on the edge of some crisis (a health crisis from his drinking, homelessness, etc.) so it is a worry that never goes completely away,” she told me in an email.

“Chronic, unpredictable stress is toxic when there’s no reliable adult.”
Her brother, Matthew Martin, 32, acknowledges the role their upbringing has played in these dynamics. “She was the only protector that I had,” he recalls. “My mother was a hard-core addict from very early on.” Throughout his childhood and early teens, he says he relied on Kiesel for the emotional support his mother couldn’t provide.

“We’ve had our fair share of arguments about [my addictions] and it’s hard, because she wants me to have some longevity. She wants me to be around for her the way that she was for me.”

From the age of eight until she left home at 15, Rene, who asked to be identified by only her first name because she was concerned about upsetting her family, says she would pick up her three younger siblings from day care, bring them home, feed and bathe them, read them stories, and put them to bed. “Basically, I played the role of mother,” said the 50-year-old Oregon resident. She remembers standing on a chair as a child and cooking dinner for her entire family. In spite of the enormous burden of responsibility, she recalls it as a role she cherished. “I have really fond memories, particularly of reading them stories in bed at night.”

But Rene’s home life was far from peaceful. She says her mother’s alcoholism prevented her from properly caring for her five children, placing the task of child-rearing on the shoulders of Rene and her older brother. (Rene’s mother is no longer living.) But just as Rene took care of her younger siblings, she and her older brother relied on each other for emotional support.

“I think that it’s important to recognize that a lot of parentification is codependent,” she said, “Perhaps one sibling is the one who does the dishes and cleans the house, and takes care of the mom who is sick or drunk.” She explains that the other sibling might be the one who provides more emotional support, either by listening to problems or comforting.

Just as Wendy assumed the role of “mother” for the Lost Boys in Peter Pan, parentified siblings often forge symbiotic relationships, where they meet each others’ needs for guardians in a lot of different ways.

“If you’re parentified and you leave your younger siblings, it’s like having a parent abandon them.”
“We know that siblings can buffer each other from the impacts of stressful relationships with parents,” said Amy K. Nuttall, an assistant professor in human development and family studies at Michigan State University. This may account for why some parentified siblings who come from abusive homes end up maintaining close, albeit complex, bonds into adulthood, with some “continuing to attempt to fill parental needs at the expense of their own.”

Still, Nuttall adds, others may distance themselves from their families altogether in order to escape the role.

Rene found herself homeless after she was kicked out of her mother’s house when she was 15 years old. She says her siblings still blame her for leaving them behind. “When you think about it, if you’re parentified and you leave your younger siblings, it’s like having a parent abandon them,” said Rene. For years after, she was plagued by feelings of guilt—a common experience among people who have been parentified.

Sibling relationships usually generate a lifelong bond, yet for Rene, freedom from caretaking responsibilities came at a cost: the loss of her family. “I don’t have a relationship with my siblings anymore,” she says.

* * *

Unpredictable childhood trauma has long-lasting effects on the brain. Studies have shown that people with adverse childhood experiences are more likely to suffer from mental- and physical-health disorders, leading people to experience a chronic state of high stress reactivity. One study found that children exposed to ongoing stress released a hormone that actually shrank the size of their hippocampus, an area of the brain that processes memory, emotion, and stress management. Individuals who have experienced emotional or physical neglect by a parent are also at a greater risk of suffering from chronic illness as adults.

“Chronic, unpredictable stress is toxic when there’s no reliable adult,” said Donna Jackson Nakazawa, the author of Childhood Disrupted and a science journalist who focuses on the intersection of neuroscience and immunology.

“I did a lot of that kind of parenting her, in a way, because what I was trying to do was get parented myself.”

Nakazawa has conducted extensive research on the body-brain connection, with a focus on studies initiated by physicians Vincent Felitti and Robert Anda. Their work on adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) has since grown into a burgeoning field with hundreds of peer-reviewed studies. The findings show that people who experienced four categories of childhood adversity—neglect and physical, sexual, and emotional abuse—were twice as likely to be diagnosed with cancer and depression as adults.


More links have been found between childhood stressors and adult heart disease, diabetes, migraines, and irritable bowel syndrome.

Jordan Rosenfeld, a 43-year-old author from California, attributes her own digestive issues to her childhood. When her mother was in the throes of substance abuse, she says, there were times she didn’t have food to eat. By the time she left home at 18, she began suffering from chronic pain after eating.

In adulthood, Rosenfeld noticed it was hard to regulate her emotions around hunger. “If I’m out with friends and we can’t decide on a restaurant, and I’m hungry—I can actually go into a little bit of a meltdown,” she said. “And I can trace that back to literally not having been fed as a child at various junctures.”

From an early age, Rosenfeld recalls having to remind her mother when they needed groceries and pulling her out of bed in the mornings to get to school on time. “I did a lot of that kind of parenting her, in a way, because what I was trying to do was get parented myself.” Because of this, she says she often distrusts that other people will take care of things. “That’s why I tend to step up and do it myself.”

Jordan’s mother, Florence Shields, remembers it was a depressing time in both their lives. “I had welfare for a while and I think that my diet—because of drugs and alcohol—wasn’t very good, and she probably got the brunt of that.” As a recovering alcoholic, Shields, who is now retired and lives in Petaluma, California, says she lacked the tools for parenting due to her own upbringing and history of tragedy.

“I’ve always been somebody who thinks it’s my job to offer help and advice even when it’s not asked for.”
When she became a mother at age 24, Shields was still grieving the loss of her older brother who died unexpectedly when she was 18. Opioids and alcohol were a way of coping with this loss, she says.“It’s like that grief is in there with you because that person is with you for the rest of your life, so when sad things come up, there he is.”

While both Rosenfeld and her mother have since attended therapy sessions together as adults, the effects of parentification continue to this day. Shields recognizes that her earlier struggles with addiction have profoundly influenced her daughter’s behavior. “Jordan is very orderly and in control,” she said by phone. When Rosenfeld’s father later remarried and had children of his own, Rosenfeld learned to project her role of caretaker onto her siblings. “I spent a lot of time babysitting them as a teenager and I think it’s been a challenge for me to separate out feeling like I’m a parent to them.”

This has often caused rifts between the siblings into adulthood, Rosenfeld says. “I’ve always been somebody who thinks it’s my job to offer help, care, and advice even when it’s not asked for.”

* * *

How does someone learn that becoming self-reliant is safer than trusting others? Nakazawa believes that in destructive parentification, “you don’t have a reliable adult to turn to.” And if a child’s early experiences at home consisted of making sure everyone else’s needs were met, then the “child doesn’t feel seen.”

This sense of responsibility and compulsive caretaking can follow them into future relationships as well. “You tend to project it onto other people in your life,” Rosenfeld says. This isn’t surprising, claims Jenny Macfie, an associate director of clinical training at the University of Tennessee and another prominent parentification researcher, as “adults who report role confusion in their childhoods may have difficulty with their identity development,” and this in turn, can affect a person’s romantic relationships.

“It’s very easy for me to get into caretaking roles with people who basically exploit my nature.”
For the first half of her marriage, Rosenfeld found herself regularly putting her partner’s needs ahead of her own—essentially mirroring her childhood role.

Others echoed this experience; Kiesel says she struggles with learning how to establish firm boundaries with partners and believes this is directly tied to caring for her brother at a young age. Similarly, Rene says finding the right balance between expectation and autonomy has been a constant problem in her relationships. She’d like to find a partner but has doubts. “It’s very easy for me to get into caretaking roles with people who basically exploit my nature.”

But these effects often go beyond the individual—studies by Nuttall and others have found that destructive parentification in a family can carry over to other generations as well. “Mothers who were overburdened by taking care of their parents during childhood have a poorer understanding of their infant’s developmental needs and limitations,” explained Nuttall. This, consequently, “leads to a parenting style that lacks warmth and sensitivity.”

* * *

As of today, there is scarce research on treatment or prevention efforts. How can a parentified sibling heal? Nakazawa believes that recognizing how these psychological puzzle pieces all fit together can be a step in the right direction. “Physically and mentally, the architecture of the brain has changed, the immune system has changed, and without that validation, you can’t begin an appropriate healing journey.”

Some people have found community through Al-Anon, a support group for the loved ones of alcoholics. “The group has a really strong focus on explaining what codependency is and offering solutions for learning new behaviors,” explained Rosenfeld. She’s attended the meetings for over a year now and says she’s noticed a tremendous change in her habits and awareness of how to set boundaries. “I’ve learned that I can’t just blame people in my life with substance-abuse issues for causing me suffering; I have a choice in taking care of myself,” she says.

Despite negative outcomes associated with parentification, researchers say that going through that experience also confers some advantages that can help people later in life. Hooper believes that people who have been parentified as children possess a greater capacity for resiliency and self-efficacy. Nakazawa echoes this. “Current [American] culture thinks of resiliency as gutting it out and getting through, and one foot in front of the other,” she says. “But resiliency is learning and making meaning from what happened.”

“People begin to see that their path to well-being must take into account the way trauma changed their story.”
A common thread found in people with these shared childhood experiences is a heightened sense of empathy and an ability to more closely connect to others. This is not to say that the negative impacts of their childhood are diminished, says Nakazawa, but that many are able to forge meaning out of their suffering. “People begin to see that their path to well-being must take into account the way in which trauma changed their story,” she explains, “And once they’re able to do that, they can also see how resiliency is also important in their story.”

For Kiesel, the freelance writer who cared for her brother from a young age, counseling and Al-Anon have helped her feel less personally responsible for her brother, though she laments the lack of support networks for siblings who have been parentified and have their own specific needs.

Though her relationship with her brother remains tenuous because of his addictions, she continues to look out for him by regularly calling and checking in on him every month.

Martin admits that to this day, she remains the voice of positivity and reason in his life. “I'm struggling with my own demons, but like my sister says, there is a future there for me.”

As Kiesel explains: “Our mother and grandmother died a few months apart, and our grandfather a little over a year later—so essentially, we're all we have left.”