Let me start by saying that, for some of you, this is going to be difficult to read. It’s going to be difficult because too many of you have had to deal with the private and personal repercussions of surviving though a sexual assault. There may be pieces of this commentary that trigger memories or open visceral, emotional wounds within you as a reader. Let me assure you, that is not my intention and I hope you continue to fight every day to survive and overcome your experience. For others of you, this may be difficult to read because my opinion will differ so far from your beliefs and you may begin (or continue) to wonder either how we became friends in the first place or why you wasted your time reading this. For you I ask, in all earnestness, to disregard the following. I don’t mean to be so blunt, but if you lack basic empathy for others based solely on your lack of mutual experience or your political leanings, do not read further.
Yesterday, I watched a woman reveal probably the darkest and most terrifying moments of her life in an over-crowded Senate chamber and in front of a global television audience. Dr. Christine Blasey Ford testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee about a sexual assault she survived in the Summer of 1982 by the hands of Supreme Court Justice nominee Brett Kavanaugh and his high school friend Mark Judge. She walked into that room, likely assuming that her story would not make a bit of difference based on sheer numbers alone – the committee is comprised of eleven Republicans and ten Democrats. She sat in that room feeling the compassion from her right and bubbling contempt to her left. She testified, under oath, about a night that probably repeats in her mind on a nearly daily basis. She got so personal about the event that she tearfully recalled the fear she had while being held down, mouth covered, adding that the strongest memory of the incident was “the uproarious laughter between the two and their having fun at my expense.”
She relived the moment very publicly knowing she would not get a satisfying resolution. In less than two weeks, she has dealt with a loss of privacy because of the press wanting to expose her story, death threats from far-right Republican supporters who felt she was part of a coordinated effort to obstruct Kavanaugh’s appointment, having to move from her longtime family home and hiring private security for her family. Throughout all of this, she has been doubted, insulted, denigrated, ridiculed and even labelled as a “pawn of a Democratic conspiracy.” All of this because she told her truth.
Yet, the primary argument against her has been “Why did she wait 36 years to bring this up?” If you haven’t figured this out by now, that is why. According to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, one in three women and one in six men will experience some form of sexual violence in their lifetime. Nearly 70% of all sexual violence are not reported. Finally, out of every 1,000 rapes, only six perpetrators will be incarcerated. Those are staggering numbers to consider for one of the most heinous crimes to befall our humanity. Here’s one more: every 98 seconds an American becomes a victim of sexual assault.
While we’re dissecting statistics, let’s look at the reasons given for not reporting sexual assaults, according to statistics from RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) between 2005-10. Fear of retaliation topped the list at 20%, while 15% believed authorities would or could not help. Among these statistics, 30% did not give a reason or could not limit it to one primary reason, so the top two reasons for not reporting make up the reasoning of half of all victims. In the case of Dr. Ford, she received both retaliation and was not believed nor assisted by authorities. This is why victims don’t come forward often and immediately. The fact that every single post on social media that broaches this topic, the comments are overwhelmingly against Dr. Ford, primarily for waiting so long. It’s simple-minded and rather disgusting, honestly.
Now, Dr. Ford’s accusations were just that – accusations. I will concede the fact that no proof was presented to further her case; but I will also argue that there was not much of an opportunity for proof to be discerned in the last two weeks. Besides Dr. Ford and Judge Kavanaugh, no witnesses were called to testify before the Senate Judiciary Committee. Multiple Senators and even the American Bar Association have called for an investigation to be held by the FBI, but Kavanaugh won’t stipulate he is in favor of that idea, nor will most Republican Senators who serve on the committee. Without a further investigation of some kind, there will be a permanent cloud over this situation and Kavanaugh’s eventual appointment – like the asterisk next to Roger Maris’s name in baseball record books.
I’ve always been a fairly empathetic individual. I’ve been a shoulder to lean on or a listening ear for friends when needed. I’ve known many people who struggle with the past trauma of a sexual assault of some kind. Because of my empathy, I feel I am informed of these instances more often than others. Because you are one of the lucky two out of three women or five out of six men who have never had to live through an event this drastic, doesn’t make it any less relevant in society.
Another thing I kept hearing about Dr. Ford’s accusation was “How is she sure it was Kavanaugh?” or “How can she remember the details of the attack so clearly but not remember whose house it occurred?”. Again, for those of you lucky enough that you haven’t experienced a sexual assault, it’s not something you forget – at all. You choose to live with it for the rest of your life and most survivors figure out a way to push through. It’s really that simple. The strength of these victims is undeniable and should be applauded whether they come forward or not.
When I was 10-years-old, I was cast in a fairly big role for a theatrical musical. I went to rehearsals every day for weeks and the show opened to packed houses and rave reviews. About two weeks into the run of the show, I was backstage and needed to go to the restroom. I walked down the long hallway from the stage, passing the green room and a few sparse people on my trip. Upon entry, the restroom was empty, but I used a stall, closing and locking it behind me. I heard someone else come in the bathroom, but didn’t think too much about it. While I was in mid-stream, the stall door opened behind me. Standing in the small doorway was a man whom I had met during the audition process. He was a very prominent member of the theatre group and was always around the green room, lobby or offices.
After exchanging a few words, I attempted to “zip up” and turned to exit the stall, but he just stood there. I tried to tell him I needed to get on stage soon, but he said my next scene wasn’t coming up anytime soon. He reached for my shoulder and then reached between my legs. I tried to push him away, but I was far outsized by this man. Luckily, I had a large stage prop that I carried with me anytime I was in costume and I smacked him in the head with it knocking the flat cap from his dome onto the floor. I struck again between his legs and was able to get around him and out of the restroom. I ran to the greenroom and stayed around people the rest of the show.
Even at 10-years-old, I knew this man was powerful and well-respected and I was conflicted about what I should do. I finished the show and met my mother, who came to every show, and we started to drive home. On that drive, I mentioned what happened. I told her that I wasn’t sure of his motivations but I knew it made me feel uncomfortable. The next day, my mother called the office of the theatre and reported it. I don’t know exactly what happened after that, but I did not finish the run of the show – someone else had to take my role for the final few weeks. In fact, I didn’t go back to that theatre at all until I was in my early twenties.
That was 34 years ago. Until this writing, I can think of maybe three people still alive that know that story. Does it sound credible to you? Would it surprise you to know when I did return to that theater more than 10 years later, that I could virtually walk around blindfolded because I remembered every room, hallway, prop room and more. Nothing had been changed in the backstage area, except for maybe some fresh paint sometime in the last decade. I may not remember everything from my youth, but I remember that night and that man. Speaking of that man, he is still involved with that theatre group and I recently read he’s getting a prestigious award soon. Congratulations.
Literally, every one of us knows at least one person who has been a victim. But do you know who that is? Have they confided in you personally? Did you hear about it from another friend? Do they know you believe them and are their ally? That last one is the important question. If the answer is “no,” then maybe they fear some form of retaliation from you, even if it’s just less attention or it changes the way you act around them. Maybe they’ve seen the demoralizing and disparaging memes you post on social media about complete strangers and don’t feel like they could depend on you that deeply. Perhaps showing a little compassion and letting them know you care would go a long way in strengthening your friendship. You don’t have to specifically talk about it, but just give them a hug and say “I believe you.” That is why I called for empathy from people who read this article. The lack of empathy in our current society is disturbing.
I’ll close with this: if you are a victim of sexual violence in any way, I am here for you as an ally, friend, sounding board or even a lunch-buddy. If I don’t already know, the next time you see me, just give me a hug. I’ll know what you mean and you’ll know I believe you. By the way, based on the reading speed of the average American, eight more victims were assaulted while you were reading this.
