MONROE - While the ex-boyfriend in prison for killing her baby tries yet again to appeal his conviction, Amy Uptegraw is speaking out for victims of abuse and honoring the memory of her son.
In April, the interview room at the Green County Child Advocacy Center was named after and dedicated to Uptegraw's baby boy who died, Christopher A. Shelton. The room is specially designed for forensic interviews of children who report abuse.
"It was always going to be Christopher's Room," said Penny Dunlavey, coordinator of the center.
Uptegraw's children were the first children interviewed at the center in 2007, when 2-month-old Christopher died after being alone with his father, Uptegraw's then-boyfriend Casey J. Shelton.
A doctor who examined Christopher's body determined the infant had been violently shaken to his death. Uptegraw testified in court that Shelton was often impatient and physically abusive with Christopher and his twin brother, stuffing rags in their mouths when their crying frustrated him and throwing one of the babies on the floor. Meanwhile, she said, he inflicted physical, psychological and emotional abuse on her, too.
Now she wants to send a powerful message to abusers and victims by speaking out about the tragedy she lives with every day.
'He asks about his brother every day'
Christopher's twin brother, Charles, is now 8 years old.
"He's doing very well. He's a very smart kid," she said. "Actually, he asks about his brother every day.
"It's really hard to talk to an 8-year-old and tell him the significance of his brother's death. He knows he was killed by his father, and he's angry. He doesn't understand why this happened."
When she speaks about Christopher, Uptegraw's normally strong voice becomes pinched and flat with pain. She and Charles lost memories and milestones along with Christopher.
Charles has "been deprived of growing up with his brother," she said. "I was even deprived of being a mother to him. You're supposed to enjoy those moments with your children."
In the years immediately after Christopher's death, as Shelton was convicted in court and ultimately sentenced to 40 years in prison, Uptegraw endured public scrutiny. Not all of it was kind. Anonymous commenters criticized her: Why didn't she just leave and take the twins with her?
Getting out is not that simple, and every situation is different, Uptegraw said.
Victim-blaming attitudes are one of the top barriers to safety, resources and support and such attitudes put survivors in greater danger, according to the Center for Relationship Abuse Awareness, a national advocacy organization.
Even when resources are available, "when you're being abused - physically, emotionally and mentally - you don't think about that," Uptegraw said, adding that Shelton manipulated, criticized and threatened her.
"He would also threaten my friends, and my friends wouldn't want to get involved," she said.
Shelton "wore her down," said Lisa Foesch, a legal advocate with Green Haven Family Advocates in Monroe who is familiar with Uptegraw's case.
"In our society," Foesch said, the common question is, "Well, why didn't she just leave?"
"Well, it's not that easy," Foesch said. Often, custody issues complicate the situation.
"Just because you get help and get resources doesn't mean ... that the outcome is going to be a positive one," Uptegraw said. In the case of Shelton, "police were involved, and I did leave. But unfortunately my son died a week later."
Getting help for kids
Christopher's Room is in the new Green County Child Advocacy Center location, a former highway department building nicknamed "The Brick House," at 2809 6th St. The center moved in the spring of 2014 from a donated space at Monroe Clinic.
When an allegation of child abuse comes forward, the set-up at the center allows a whole team of authorities to listen to and participate in the child's forensic interview. Representatives from law enforcement, the District Attorney's office, Human Services, Juvenile Intake and advocacy groups sit in a separate room and observe the interview via video feed.
"We can have an allegation come in, and within two hours have a team here in a child-friendly environment," Dunlavey said.
In this way, a child is not subjected to multiple interviews with each involved agency.
Every aspect of The Brick House is intentional and carefully planned. The waiting area for families, for example, does not contain fantasy toys or entertainment. There are no unicorn dolls, fictional movies or storybooks. Instead, the center offers children reality-based nature videos, puzzles, toys and coloring books.
"It's hard to go from playing with something that's fantasy, and then in the very next moment go into an interview where everything has to be true," Dunlavey said.
Since 2007, The Brick House has interviewed 270 children, with an average age of 8 or 9, she said. It's one of just 14 child advocacy centers in Wisconsin and working toward full accreditation through the National Children's Alliance.
After interviews, families have immediate access to agency representatives and leave the center with a plan.
"It's about advocacy right away," Dunlavey said. "It's about the investigation also, but it's not like, "Here's somebody's card. Give them a call.'"
Getting help for adults
What happens at The Brick House isn't just about helping children. "It's about getting help for adults," Dunlavey said. For the abused adults, for abusers and for parents who feel they are at risk for abusing children, "there are programs that are preventative."
Similarly, Uptegraw wants to educate adults, including abusers. She's spoken to groups of inmates at the minimum-security Oakhill Correctional Institution in Dane County. After she shared her story, she asked them to share their stories.
"They were really touched," Uptegraw said. "It sent a powerful message to the ones that were in there for assault. A lot of them were actually crying."
Foesch, who was with her at the prison, said the inmates were "very quiet" while Uptegraw spoke. Afterward, many recognized a connection between the abuse they experienced growing up and the abuse they inflicted on others as adults.
The cycle of abuse is generational, Foesch said. In her own advocacy work, she's now meeting with the daughters of mothers she helped a decade ago.
For an abuser to stop, the first step is accepting responsibility. "A lot of abusers feel it's the victim's fault," Foesch said.
Uptegraw said Shelton has never apologized to her, yet he still sends her letters from prison.
"He wants to be friends," she said. "He wants a relationship with me and Charles, and he's not supposed to be contacting me. I feel like I will never be free of him."
But she has her own life and family now. She has two other children besides 8-year-old Charles. Her 20-year-old daughter, Aaliyah, just finished her first year of college. Her son Bryce, 17, is in Monroe High School's Class of 2016 and has enough credits to graduate early.
Her positive experience speaking to inmates has emboldened her to keep speaking out about abuse and about Christopher.
"No child should ever fear a parent or caregiver or have their life taken," she said.
In April, the interview room at the Green County Child Advocacy Center was named after and dedicated to Uptegraw's baby boy who died, Christopher A. Shelton. The room is specially designed for forensic interviews of children who report abuse.
"It was always going to be Christopher's Room," said Penny Dunlavey, coordinator of the center.
Uptegraw's children were the first children interviewed at the center in 2007, when 2-month-old Christopher died after being alone with his father, Uptegraw's then-boyfriend Casey J. Shelton.
A doctor who examined Christopher's body determined the infant had been violently shaken to his death. Uptegraw testified in court that Shelton was often impatient and physically abusive with Christopher and his twin brother, stuffing rags in their mouths when their crying frustrated him and throwing one of the babies on the floor. Meanwhile, she said, he inflicted physical, psychological and emotional abuse on her, too.
Now she wants to send a powerful message to abusers and victims by speaking out about the tragedy she lives with every day.
'He asks about his brother every day'
Christopher's twin brother, Charles, is now 8 years old.
"He's doing very well. He's a very smart kid," she said. "Actually, he asks about his brother every day.
"It's really hard to talk to an 8-year-old and tell him the significance of his brother's death. He knows he was killed by his father, and he's angry. He doesn't understand why this happened."
When she speaks about Christopher, Uptegraw's normally strong voice becomes pinched and flat with pain. She and Charles lost memories and milestones along with Christopher.
Charles has "been deprived of growing up with his brother," she said. "I was even deprived of being a mother to him. You're supposed to enjoy those moments with your children."
In the years immediately after Christopher's death, as Shelton was convicted in court and ultimately sentenced to 40 years in prison, Uptegraw endured public scrutiny. Not all of it was kind. Anonymous commenters criticized her: Why didn't she just leave and take the twins with her?
Getting out is not that simple, and every situation is different, Uptegraw said.
Victim-blaming attitudes are one of the top barriers to safety, resources and support and such attitudes put survivors in greater danger, according to the Center for Relationship Abuse Awareness, a national advocacy organization.
Even when resources are available, "when you're being abused - physically, emotionally and mentally - you don't think about that," Uptegraw said, adding that Shelton manipulated, criticized and threatened her.
"He would also threaten my friends, and my friends wouldn't want to get involved," she said.
Shelton "wore her down," said Lisa Foesch, a legal advocate with Green Haven Family Advocates in Monroe who is familiar with Uptegraw's case.
"In our society," Foesch said, the common question is, "Well, why didn't she just leave?"
"Well, it's not that easy," Foesch said. Often, custody issues complicate the situation.
"Just because you get help and get resources doesn't mean ... that the outcome is going to be a positive one," Uptegraw said. In the case of Shelton, "police were involved, and I did leave. But unfortunately my son died a week later."
Getting help for kids
Christopher's Room is in the new Green County Child Advocacy Center location, a former highway department building nicknamed "The Brick House," at 2809 6th St. The center moved in the spring of 2014 from a donated space at Monroe Clinic.
When an allegation of child abuse comes forward, the set-up at the center allows a whole team of authorities to listen to and participate in the child's forensic interview. Representatives from law enforcement, the District Attorney's office, Human Services, Juvenile Intake and advocacy groups sit in a separate room and observe the interview via video feed.
"We can have an allegation come in, and within two hours have a team here in a child-friendly environment," Dunlavey said.
In this way, a child is not subjected to multiple interviews with each involved agency.
Every aspect of The Brick House is intentional and carefully planned. The waiting area for families, for example, does not contain fantasy toys or entertainment. There are no unicorn dolls, fictional movies or storybooks. Instead, the center offers children reality-based nature videos, puzzles, toys and coloring books.
"It's hard to go from playing with something that's fantasy, and then in the very next moment go into an interview where everything has to be true," Dunlavey said.
Since 2007, The Brick House has interviewed 270 children, with an average age of 8 or 9, she said. It's one of just 14 child advocacy centers in Wisconsin and working toward full accreditation through the National Children's Alliance.
After interviews, families have immediate access to agency representatives and leave the center with a plan.
"It's about advocacy right away," Dunlavey said. "It's about the investigation also, but it's not like, "Here's somebody's card. Give them a call.'"
Getting help for adults
What happens at The Brick House isn't just about helping children. "It's about getting help for adults," Dunlavey said. For the abused adults, for abusers and for parents who feel they are at risk for abusing children, "there are programs that are preventative."
Similarly, Uptegraw wants to educate adults, including abusers. She's spoken to groups of inmates at the minimum-security Oakhill Correctional Institution in Dane County. After she shared her story, she asked them to share their stories.
"They were really touched," Uptegraw said. "It sent a powerful message to the ones that were in there for assault. A lot of them were actually crying."
Foesch, who was with her at the prison, said the inmates were "very quiet" while Uptegraw spoke. Afterward, many recognized a connection between the abuse they experienced growing up and the abuse they inflicted on others as adults.
The cycle of abuse is generational, Foesch said. In her own advocacy work, she's now meeting with the daughters of mothers she helped a decade ago.
For an abuser to stop, the first step is accepting responsibility. "A lot of abusers feel it's the victim's fault," Foesch said.
Uptegraw said Shelton has never apologized to her, yet he still sends her letters from prison.
"He wants to be friends," she said. "He wants a relationship with me and Charles, and he's not supposed to be contacting me. I feel like I will never be free of him."
But she has her own life and family now. She has two other children besides 8-year-old Charles. Her 20-year-old daughter, Aaliyah, just finished her first year of college. Her son Bryce, 17, is in Monroe High School's Class of 2016 and has enough credits to graduate early.
Her positive experience speaking to inmates has emboldened her to keep speaking out about abuse and about Christopher.
"No child should ever fear a parent or caregiver or have their life taken," she said.