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| Dr. Noe Flores, c. 2000 |
Today, Wendy Cervantes, who goes by their chosen name Said, is bravely coming forward to tell their story of the sexual and physical abuse they suffered for years at the children’s home Niños de Mexico, including the sexual abuse perpetrated on her by Dr. Noe Flores, the longtime medical director of Niños de Mexico, who was employed at Niños from 2001 to 2016, and who was one of the first children to come into the care of Niños in the late 1960’s.
Said came into the care of Niños at the age of 5 in the year 2003, leaving the institution in 2016. This is their story and these are their words, which I have translated from Spanish to English. Their story begins with the abuse they suffered before coming into the care of Niños as they believe that to be an important part of their story and context.
I (Eric) am aware of four total victims of Dr. Noe. I (Eric) am also aware of serious questions as to whether leadership knew about allegations of inappropriate behavior by Noe towards his patients within Niños, but did not report them or take actions to dismiss him.
Said hopes their story will encourage and inspire other Niños victims of sexual and physical abuse to come forward:
I would like to express the images in my head, but they would be too grotesque. But probably if someone sees them, they could understand a little bit about what it would be like to live with those images in their heads.
The image in my head is of an adult "taking me to the store for a sucker" while asking me if I want [his] penis. He is an old man around 50-60 years old or maybe older. He takes me to a place where there are many trees. I have a dress on. I am 3 years old, maybe [I] just turned [3]. We didn't go for the sucker, he's just raping me. [I’m f]ace to face with him and I'm screaming a lot. I'm trying to be as strong as I can, but the pain is too strong. Someone managed to hear. The police have arrived, but they’re too late. He’s done what he wanted.
I have an image of being inside some large cement tubes where I sometimes sleep and my mom has sex with several men. I am alone and one man after another abuses me, taking turns. At that time, even a woman touched me. I am in a very dark place. My mother already has an appointment with someone to have sex, two men. She gives me a container of cream and leaves me outside. Then, out of curiosity I peek inside, and she allows me to be sexually abused and to perform oral sex on them .
I'm in the care of the Division of Family Services. I'm four years old and they have locked me in a room for insulting a teacher. The door is windowless. A guy calls me over. I get closer to him and he touches my vagina. He does it a lot. I fall off a bunk. I hurt my knees badly. I'm 4 years old and still in DFS custody. The adult woman rubs my vagina.
I'm in the Bethel House. I've been there maybe a week and three guys tell me to pull up my dress. I do it. It's normal for me, I guess. Then they all three show me their penises at the same time. And I can't remember the rest.
Days later they cut down the palm tree.
A guy who always spoke to me hatefully, rapes me every day he can. This time he has caught me in the laundry. I'm washing my socks that have accumulated from not going to wash every day. This day, he has me face down, feeling the cold floor, while he penetrates me from behind. I feel something running. I'm bleeding a lot.
I have on purple pants.
He appears behind me when I'm going to sleep and he starts touching my behind with his penis outside his pants and he starts penetrating me. He and another guy take turns sexually assaulting me whenever they can. One sometimes masturbates in front of me so that I can observe how he ejaculates.
I am in the computer room at Bethel's House. A different boy comes to kiss me. I remember that I am about 7-8 years old because I have lost some teeth. I remember a female tutor beating me a lot for having provoked the boys to have sex with me.
There was a cook at the Bethel House. She has passed away, but she was a beautiful person. I can only remember her with such empathy, but she couldn't help us because it would get her in trouble. I remember once the female tutor at that time had disciplined me. I came downstairs crying a lot and the cook was in the kitchen. I think I was about 6 years old. She would see my body sometimes with bruises and she asked me, whispering, what had happened. And I remember that time she hugged me a lot and we were able to cry, but we had to let go quickly because the tutor would come downstairs.
I remember that in those days, I had trouble sleeping. I even woke up restless. I was very fearful. I think because of the religion that they instilled in us, I felt that the devil was always close. I was afraid to take a bath sometimes, so that when I went up to bathe on my own, I tried to just pour water on myself to not be there a long time.
There was a girl who was the daughter of auxiliary houseparents, (we had several of them changing all the time). Well, this girl and her cousin made me and another girl touch each other and do things with a pillow, and if we did not do it, they beat us.
At the Niños school, in kindergarten, there was another older boy who showed me his penis under the moon-shaped wooden table.
Honestly, for a long time I felt that I was the one who was wrong in all this, that I caused everything, because that's basically how they taught me.
They taught me to have such fear and terror of being disciplined.
I was about 7-8 years old and the lid of the large salt shaker fell off and a lot of salt fell into my bowl. I tried to cover it with the broth in my vegetable soup, but it didn't work. A female tutor was watching me and she forced me to eat it. I couldn't. It was burning my stomach. And she was giving it to me spoonful by spoonful in my mouth. When I only had one spoonful left, I couldn't continue and I wanted to vomit. She told me, "Yes, pretty girl, I'll make you swallow your vomit." She gave me the last spoonful and I vomited. She put the bowl in front of me to catch it. I started crying and she made me eat a spoonful of vomit.
Even though they have moved us from our house, one of the guys still knows that he can do to me what he wants when he wants.
I'm at Dr. Noe's house. I'm about 5-6 years old. He puts on the movie "Another Egg and Chicken Movie." I'm standing up and he comes over and secretly touches my behind.
Noe has given me some injections to regulate my period and, as always, we deal with something that has to do with my abuse. That day we are in a consultation. There is a window with blinds on the left side, I am on the table and he closes it to check me and says that having a big clitoris makes you come faster. This time he has gotten very close with a clear desire and I can feel his penis.
I needed money to buy a sweater for my girlfriend back then. I asked for a job to earn money.
He asks me to kiss him.
He penetrates me from behind (I think it was near the door at the back).
He gives me 400 pesos.
Another day he called me in to check my period. He will give me medicine and do a check on my behind. I have on a school uniform. I have on some white leggings. On the stretcher he adjusts me so that my leggings straddle his neck. He pulls down my leggings and my underwear. I'm lying down and he starts to penetrate me. I tell him to stop, but he is saying "COME" COME" until he ejaculates on me.
He tells me that it's okay, that he's had a vasectomy.
I have a feminine pad. He takes it and wraps it in his white glove and puts it inside his undergarment.
He always asked me, you haven't told our secret, right?
And I told him no, I haven't told anyone.
And he told me you can tell it when I die, if you want.
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