A pressing matter

Hey hey hey!  So this is post number 2, and I am going to dive into something heavy.  There has been an issue that has been in the back of my mind ever since I left island that I can't seem to get rid of.  So this past year, I got to experience many many new, different, and some of them exciting things.  For example, eating sea turtle, spear fishing, eating nothing but clear jello for a month, teaching first and second grade how to read, and the list goes on and on and on.  But I do have a very positive thing I would like to add to that list - and that was acquiring a rather large family.  My host family, who I love dearly, had 11 people.  The two parents (Mama and Baba) and here we go. (oldest to youngest) 1.  Shanna  2.  Martin  3.  Ellan  4.  Elisina  5.  Lorlain aka Brenita  6.  Emil  7.  Baslinda aka Bajin  8.  Combine  9.  Abraham.  Wow, and the ages range from 4 years old to 24 years old (yep, that's 20 solid years of straight baby making...)  But just to clarify, not everyone was in the house at once.  The two oldest were either in Majuro or in the States, and Ellan and Elsina were in high school on a different island.  So I only lived with them for about a month.  The normal number of children in the house were 5 with 3 other adults (me, Mama, and Baba). And then there were points when Baba was gone, then Mama and Brenita left, and Baba came back...  Now before I go on, I would like to say that I know that my host parents loved their children very much, and would probably do anything to get back at someone who try to harm them in any way.  But there was one thing Mama and I disagreed on a lot - hitting.  She (and everyone else on island) said that if children were "bad", it was absolutely okay to hit them, even if it was not your own child.  I have a huge problem with this.  I would like to believe I have loving hands and I only want to use my hands for good.  So Mama and I would argue a lot on this issue.  She would say that if her children were bad, it was absolutely fine to smack them with the broom.  I would argue back saying how is the child know you love him/her if the only form of affection you show is by a broom handle.  And as the year went on, I am HORRIFIED to say that I became comfortable with this.  I never stood up in between my abuser and my brothers and sisters.  I never had the courage to act upon what I said.  I would just turn my head aside, cry some silent, invisible tears, wait for the beating to be over, pick up Abraham or Combine (because they were little, for the older kids, I would rub their back) and take them outside to cry on my shoulder, and sing the only song I knew all the words to - Traveling Soldier (by the Dixie Chicks, I know, they re-did the song, but I don't remember who sang the original).  Recently, I was filling out a job application, and a question asked me give me a time when I had courage.  The only thing I could think of was my lack of courage - how I stood off to the side and did nothing.  I feel so ashamed of myself.  In my dreams and imaginations, I would put myself in the front, standing in between whats right and whats wrong, and being able to stop this from happening.  I had my dreams and self image torn apart to the very core, because I was unable to do anything.  I let it happen, and that cycle is going to keep happening.  I love my brothers and sisters so much, and I feel like I failed them.