LOOK THE OTHER WAY
By Elena Matyas
While running errands on Saturday afternoon, I stopped at Target to pick up one item. I strategized my route to avoid toys, Halloween costumes, little girls’ clothing, baby items and all the other “Roxie triggers” that fill the aisles. I made it to customer check-out with just one person in line. Relief. Success. I would be in and out of the store within minutes.
And I would dodge an emotional breakdown.
As I paid for my item, a familiar woman walked up to the checkout area in front of me, apparently flanked by her two daughters.
That woman was Cara DiMassa.
I have not seen Cara since June 28 when she appeared in the Huntington Hospital trauma room — uninvited and unannounced — while I stood in shock next to Roxie’s lifeless body.
I expected the day would come when my path would cross with Cara’s. I wondered what would transpire between us. Surely, she must have some bit of compassion for the mother of a 6-year-old who drowned and suffered a horrible, violent death — a mother whose life has been shattered because she entrusted the DiMassa family with her daughter’s care.
What was Cara’s response to our chance encounter? It was to literally turn away. And to demand that her daughters do the same.
This should have come as no surprise. After all, Summerkids counselors turned away from Roxie. And who was in charge of training and managing those counselors? Cara DiMassa.
So, rather than setting an example for her daughters, Cara killed yet another teachable moment. Just like she killed my daughter from her failure to do what was safe and what was sound.
Doug and I made a point of thanking each other in front of Roxie for cooking a meal, cleaning up the dishes or folding the laundry. If we lost our patience with her and raised our voices, we would apologize and explain to her why we lost our cool.
After being reprimanded for disrupting class one day, Roxie drew an apology note for her kindergarten teacher. It was our obligation to be the best role models possible for her, to teach her responsibility, to understand the consequences of her choices and, most importantly, the significance of offering a genuine, heartfelt “I’m sa-wee” followed by her signature hug.
Teaching children to face challenges head on is one of the most important skills adults can share, enabling children to gain a thorough understanding of the relationship between responsibility and reward.
Cara’s daughters are privileged students of Pasadena’s elite Polytechnic School where Cara also attended as a young person. The “Polyhonor” states, in part, “I commit to approach my decisions with integrity, kindness and generosity both on and off campus”. Poly’s website states: “We believe all members of the Poly community share a collective responsibility to foster an equitable and just community. We strive to…. encourage empathy and see the best in each other.”
The DiMassas have invested a substantial sum of money in a school whose mission they disregard.
As I stand here today in an eerily quiet house, I cannot help but think how 6-year-old Roxie never turned away from children who needed help, who needed support, who deserved a humane touch. Cara’s daughters are in their mid-teens. Yet, all three acted as if they saw a ghost. Perhaps they did. Was the decision to turn away from a bereaved mother approached with “integrity, kindness and generosity?”
Our foundation strives to advance accountability. Adults must stop saying that they simply looked away and the next thing they knew, their child drowned in a backyard pool or was severely injured or abused at a camp. By teaching her daughters to turn away, Cara is preparing them to make the same mistakes she did, which led to Roxie’s death in her pool. That is not acceptable. That is not being accountable. That does nothing to change wholly preventable outcomes.
Roxie showed us how we should behave as adults. We must and will do the same. We will never turn away from you, Beautiful Girl. And we are profoundly disturbed by a grown woman who continues to turn away from being decent.