An Open Letter to Donald Trump

Dear Mr. Trump;

I want to start with a confession.  I didn’t vote for you in the 2016 presidential election.  That shouldn’t surprise you since an overwhelming majority of voters didn’t either but I just wanted to be clear that I’m not part of that “landslide” by which you claim that you won.

Let’s start with a few of the obvious reasons I refused to vote for you:

1. Your complete lack of morals.
2. Your complete lack of political experience
3. Your complete lack of leadership skills.  (No, being a big shot CEO doesn’t count.  Not when it involves the lying, cheating and foisting off responsibility for your mistakes to the taxpayers of this country.)

But let’s get down to where the fork meets the grits.  You see, what bothered me most was that you never had a plan… or at least one you could clearly state.  You said you had plans, great plans, plans that would benefit Americans muchly.  I find it difficult to vote for someone if I don’t understand what’s going on inside their heads.  And all I could see inside your head was a hot mess of half-truths, whole lies, and overwhelming narcissism.

One of those lies was when you said you were going to “drain the swamp” of Washington insiders.  You didn’t drain the swamp.  You did, however, put a whole new shine on the concept of cronyism.  I look at your choices of cabinet members and see how stupid you are.  You see, a smart person knows their limitations and surrounds himself with people who  don’t have those limitations and then actively listens to what they have to say.  You have chosen people who don’t know anything about the positions they’ve been nominated for.  An Attorney General who doesn’t even know what constitutes ‘assault’?  An energy secretary who once claimed that he wanted to do away with the department?  Okay, technically he never actually said it because he suffered a brain cramp and couldn’t even remember what it was that he was against.  An education secretary who thinks that we should do away with public education?  These are not people who will be able to knowledgeably guide you during your tenure.  They’re glory hounds, just like you.  They have two things in common.  They’re lacking in the necessary skills/experience to do the job adequately.  And they’re totally willing to kiss your fake-tanned ass.  

You lied about saving jobs at Carrier Corp. and Ford Motor Company.  You lied about knowing more than all the intelligence services combined when you said you knew more about Russians interfering with a presidential election.  You lied about building a wall and making Mexico pay for it.  And you lied when you said Alec Baldwin’s impersonation of you on Saturday Night Live wasn’t funny.  Actually it isn’t funny.  It was downright hysterical!  And I’m willing to bet that every time he goes on SNL, he remembers this little scene from The Hunt for Red October.   

https://youtu.be/YvDcJydVcHo  

Being a cheat and a liar is no way to return this country to greatness as you claim you want to do.  This is why I’m writing; to tell you that I intend to do everything in my power to limit the amount of damage you’re going to do to this country that I live in and I love.  I will call and write senators and congressmen daily.  I will post on social media several times a day.  I will join with others who feel the same way I do and together we will be the ones to bring greatness to the United States of America.

One last thing, Mr. Trump.  I was raised in a politically active family back in the day when there was civility in politics.  And my mother pounded into my soul the notion that whoever occupied the White House should be referred to as “President  <last name>”.  You don’t refer to them only by last name (Obama, Reagan, Kennedy) or a clever twist on their name (Shrub instead of Bush) because they are due the respect of the office.  You, however, have made such a mockery of the office, and you aren’t yet even the president, that I have a difficult time associating the respected office with the name Trump.  In The American President, Aaron Sorkin writes that being president is all about character.  Truer words were never spoken.  For decades, you have demonstrated that you have none.  People of character do not renege on business contracts just to make a higher profit.  They don’t con people out of large sums of money to “teach” them the ins and outs of real estate. They don’t insult journalists, parents of fallen service men, or members of the LGBTQ community. They don’t assault women and brag about it.  (And despite what Jeff Sessions says, what you advocate doing is assault.)  Therefore after the inauguration, I will refer to you as President Pussygrabber because it’s the office that deserves the respect and not you.

Disrespectfully yours,

Lisa

Context and Intent

Oh dear.  I was really hoping I’d be able to get through this election cycle without feeling the need to come here and start kicking butts.  However, now people have pushed me past my limits and ironically enough, that’s why I’m so pissed off.  Today’s blog is about limits and people who do or do not respect them.

Donald Trump, self proclaimed billionaire (not that we’ll ever know since he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to release his tax returns) is the Republican nominee for President of the United States.  He got this nomination despite the fact that he’s a misogynist, a narcissist, a racist, a sexist, and a blow-hard who has no respect for anyone but himself… and Vladimir Putin… and possibly his tax advisors.   He’s mocked women, the disabled, and the LGBTQ community with abandon and yet, there he is still running for president.

Ah, but wait, maybe he won’t be for long.  Maybe his comments about grabbing women’s pussies and kissing beautiful women without giving them a say in the matter will finally sink him.  Dare we hope?  No, it appears that his fan club is still rooting for him.  Sunday in my Facebook feed I saw one meme posted and reposted by a number of people.  According to this meme, they don’t seem to understand why people are offended by Trump’s words and yet made Fifty Shades of Grey a best seller.  Seriously?  You can’t figure this out?  Okay I’m about to explain it to you so read carefully,

It’s all about context and intent.  

As George Carlin reminded us a few decades ago words on their own are useful tools but not inherently offensive.  It’s how they’re used that becomes problematic.  'Snatch', 'Box', and 'Pussy' are slang terms for female genitalia.  But you could be taking about a cat that needs to go to the vets office when you say, "Snatch that pussy and put her in a box."  

to use them to say that you can and do sexually assault women is beyond the pale of anyone, let alone a person running for elected.  Equating this to extremely badly written mommy porn is ludicrous.  I am aware that there are scenes in Fifty Shades where the heroine’s limits are violated.  Many people have written about that and taken the author to task over it.  However, the vast majority of people who read the book weren’t aware that would be happening when they bought it.  

Then there's the excuse that what he said was just locker room talk.  Plenty of athletes, both professional and recreational have put that fallacy to rest.  But even if it had been just the same kinds of things that guys talk about in the locker room, it's still not right.  As my mother would say, just because everyone else is doing it, doesn't make it right.  

And so dear readers, that’s what it’s all about.  Context.  Intent.  On the one hand we have people who read a work of fiction that describes sexual scenes between consenting (most of the time) adults.  On the other hand, we have a very high profile businessman who is now running for the office of president, describing how he can and does get away with a crime.  

‘Snatch', 'Box', 'Pussy’, ‘Twat’,‘Cunt’ ; the words are not the issue.  It would be no different if he said he grabs women’s genitals or their vulvas.  It’s not the words.  It’s the intent.  It’s the context.  Donald Trump used a slang expression to describe how he commits sexual battery against women.  And that makes all the difference in the world.

Her Struggle (and Success) Deserves to be Known

WARNING: This post will contain descriptions of violence and sexual assault. It is the truth as I remember it. If you don't like that, don't read it. I'm writing this because my cousin Sherry was killed last week in a murder-suicide in her home in Cedar Rapids Iowa. You can read the article in the main newspaper for that city here.

I hadn't seen or heard from Sherry since 1989 after one of my visits home from college. As you can see in this obituary for her, her life was unknown to many of us who grew up with her. But I knew more. I want to tell you what happened during that visit, the history of her life as I knew it to that point, because sadly she had been conditioned to accept less than she was worth in life. That wasn't right. The truth deserves to be known, because maybe, just maybe, it will make someone out there realize that what happens today to their children will impact those children's entire life.

Therapy Dogs Group; Sherry second human from left

As readers of this blog know, I'm a survivor of childhood abuse. As horrible as that was, it was a bright sunny life compared to my cousin Sherry's. I wish I had more photos to share than I do, but I remember reading a book about Liza Minnelli as a child, a kid's picture book, and looking at my cousin Sherry and telling her, "You look like her." Sherry had pale skin, dark eyes, and black hair that she always wore short. She also wore glasses, which I thought hid those beautiful eyes, so I'm at least pleased to see that in her adult years she stopped wearing glasses. I tried to find out more about her life. She worked in the public and community school system in Cedar Rapids. I found the above photo of her and a group of people who worked with therapy dogs: Sherry is the second person from the left. A local TV station in Cedar Rapids had this report that mentions her work and the aftermath of her death.

A high school classmate of Sherry's contacted me privately to let me know about a fund that is currently being raised to help support Sherry's work with therapy dogs at the school where she worked for many years. If you'd like to help, please make checks out to Prairie Hill PTO then mail them to:
Prairie Hill Elementary
Attn: Scott Schipper
401 76th Ave SW
Cedar Rapids, IA 52404

Sherry became a very valued member of the school system she served. This is from the Prairie Hill Elementary School where she worked: During the week of March 2-6 we would like to take the time to honor the life of our friend Sherry through the giving of random acts of kindness. We believe that even through hurting it is important to spread joy and make a positive impact on our community, family, and friends. Each student will be bringing home a small card to pass along when they do a random act of kindness. Take a picture of it, or write a short story describing it, or both and submit them to us. We will be turning them into a collective display, or book, or both in the coming weeks.

But let's go back to my first memories of Sherry and what I knew about her life before she left home, left town, and left our family in 1989.

Sherry lived with her grandmother, my aunt Maureen, and her brother, Jeff, from the time she was at least three until she left home soon after high school graduation. I don't have the legal records, but I recall being told that Aunt Maureen got custody of them because their mother, Maureen's daughter, had abandoned them after years of an abusive marriage, and Aunt Maureen was worried about them being the two youngest kids in that house. They might have been better off in foster care or with another family member.

My aunt Maureen was a nasty piece of work.  Prior to Sherry and Jeff she had two adopted children: a son she claimed could do no wrong who later committed suicide, and a daughter she claimed was a liar and could do nothing right, which sounds exactly like what she said about Sherry and Jeff. Her sexism is astonishing to me today, and I have to wonder how many male abusers are raised in an environment where they feel free to do whatever they want – and how many female survivors are raised in an environment where they feel as if they can do nothing right.

Jeff raped Sherry. Not once, not twice, but over the course of her entire life. She'd tell me about it, but she rebuffed my attempts to get her to at least go to the school counselor. Any words anyone said against her grandmother brought out fear and anger; our last discussion was an argument, because I was urging her to tell the authorities and get away from that woman. I ended our argument by telling her that when she wanted help, she knew where to find me. I've been wracked by guilt this week, thinking that I should have called the police, should have grabbed her and made her tell someone. I couldn't even do that to protect myself; I wasn't yet conscious enough of my own power, let alone trained in any way to really help another survivor.

I witnessed a sexual assault when I was visiting my aunt Maureen's home in the early 1970s. I was four, Sherry would have been three, and Jeff was seven or eight. We were playing a game in another room while my mother and her sister (Maureen) visited in the kitchen. Jeff scooted over, grabbed at me, and tried to put his hands down my pants. I punched him. While I hadn't been able to protect myself from the adult man who had previously molested me a few times, I was big enough to defend myself against Jeff. I remember him looking at me with confusion and then just scooting over to his sister and shoving her skirt up and putting his hands under her panties; she was crying but didn't fight back. I ran into the kitchen and told my mom and Aunt Maureen, who came back into the other room, where now the other two kids were sitting apart, Sherry with tears in her eyes and Jeff with that perpetually confused and vacant look he always had. My mother grabbed me while my aunt Maureen was yelling that I was lying, that Sherry was lying, that Sherry always lied, and how poor Jeff was an angel.

My mother never took me back to that house when I was a child, and I have no more memories of my cousins until I am in the 9th grade and Sherry showed up in the 8th grade in one of my classes. My mother did that often – she'd simply remove me from a dangerous or abusive situation, and we'd never talk about it again.

Suddenly my aunt Maureen's health took a turn for the worse, so my mother was driving her to doctor's appointments, and we were spending more time with them again. Sherry and I were in junior high school, and Jeff was in high school by that time. Aunt Maureen was always saying that Jeff should date me, an idea that spread to other female family members ... CREEPY! The house they lived in seemed like a normal house except for Sherry's and Jeff's bedrooms. To get to Sherry's bedroom you had to go through his – or, put another way, the only way for Sherry to get out of her room was through Jeff's ... who sets up a house like that? Was that how her mother's bedroom had been set up? Did this same thing happen to her mother? A cousin recently told me that she heard through the family that Aunt Maureen moved Sherry into her bedroom and put a lock on her door later in Sherry's teen years but I never heard or saw that.

Old Timey Photo of Clique taken 1986 or 1986

Aunt Maureen always made Jeff accompany Sherry when she and I wanted to hang out just the two of us, but somehow, sometimes, we got her away. She joined my clique of friends by the time we got to high school; it got her away from that house for a while, and she got to see what other boys were like. Our clique was for the artistic geeks, you could say, focused on a core group of students in the same year; neither Sherry nor I were part of that core group, but we were part of the basic members; we stayed until the core group graduated in 1987.

Date or Friend? Prom 1988

Some new people came and went into our clique as new boyfriends and girlfriends entered the lives of the basic members. One of Sherry's high school classmates sent me this photo of her with one a young man at the prom in 1988... I don't recall him so he might not have interacted with our clique very much. During my senior and her junior year the core members were gone so we were moving into different groups of friends, a necessary thing to do given that we were not going to graduate the same year. Anyone know more about this uniformed guy named Tom?

Sherry & Boyfriend Summer 1986?

Getting away from her brother meant that Sherry could see new ways for boys and girls to interact. Okay, sure, we could be super goofy in our clique, but she also had boyfriends, including this dude, whom I later dated myself. Oddly that didn't cause a rift between us; dating among members of the clique was about as common as bringing in new girlfriends and boyfriends. Dating was more of a group dynamic, often with one-on-one dates afterward. We circulated between different houses -- some of us lived on farms, others in town, and once members of the clique could drive, we'd go to everyone's house. Going to Sherry's was very rare and very uncomfortable, because once more her brother had to be included. It was just easier to have her over to another person's house than deal with the atmosphere there. I never talked with the other clique members ... did they know what was happening? Did they sense the unease that both Sherry and I felt there?

It was difficult to talk with Sherry, even when I saw Jeff touching her inappropriately. I always spoke up and stopped him, I often sat between them in the back of the pickup, and he knew better than to touch me. But by then we all knew that telling the adults in our family would accomplish nothing. As I said above, she rejected any of my attempts to get her to tell a school official or even our minister, sometimes with a lot of angry words on both sides. Maybe she was told so many horror stories about her abusive father – and they are quite frightening – that she thought she had it good? She did tell me that she hated to be with Jeff because he came into her bedroom and touched her, made her do things.

A few years after I was far enough from Iowa to start dealing with my own childhood, I remembered the above incident with the game and the assault. I asked my mother about it, and she confirmed it. She told me more as well, like how her sisters and brothers had a family meeting about the abuse in that house. She told me, and my father later confirmed it, that she and Dad offered to take in Sherry, but that Aunt Maureen convinced them to let her deal with it, claimed she didn't know. Nothing changed in that house.

Sherry Senior Photo

After our argument about her reporting her grandmother and getting out of that house, I never heard from or saw her again. I did hear and see a few things about her within the greater family over the years. One of my sisters responded to a call from Sherry and helped her move out and find an apartment right after she graduated from High School. I met her first husband once at a family gathering – she'd left him and their kids; their two daughters are still alive. After her death, I learned that she kept in touch with her daughters and they seemed to have had a good relationship; I'm very glad to learn that but I won't share their names with you because I never met them beyond that one time. I don't know how many husbands Sherry had over the years, but she does not seem to have had more children. Considering the role models she had and how she was raised, I'm amazed that she had what seems to have been a relatively stable life in Cedar Rapids for many years. But she always tried to be so very friendly and helpful out in public. Maybe, like me, she felt she could help others, even if she couldn't help herself.

As for Aunt Maureen? She died while I lived in NYC, sometime between 1995-97. I baked a cake and we had a party to celebrate her death. This paralleled the Easy Bake Oven cake I'd made at age 8 when my sister, who had been married to my first abuser, filed for divorce from him.

And Jeff? I once picked him up and shoved him against a wall at the local bowling alley when I found out that he was harassing my eldest niece (at least eight years younger than him) over the phone and in person around town, and even showing up at her school.  I told him that if I heard that he'd even looked at her again, I'd kill him. I learned later that he was found guilty of child molestation at least twice – after his first jail sentence, he did it again and was arrested again. I believe he is in jail for life now; if not, he should be.

Through all of this, Sherry managed to get decent grades in school, make friends, and do activities such as band, chorus, and bowling. So I want to ask folks with good memories to leave comments here after I share some more photos with Sherry in them.

Sherry was active in band, where she played French horn. I hope she continued to play some instrument as an adult. She always went to state musical competitions. In the photo to the right she's the first person on the lower right. I remember that sweater with the fruit slices.

Band was great, not just for music, but also to make friends. You got to take trips to various competitions, and you'd share lesson time with others, so you could get to know each other if you wanted to. Sherry is in the center of this photo in the second row.

Sherry was active in chorus as well. In addition to our high school chorus there were several smaller ensembles – mixed, mixed à capella, and girls' chorus. Chorus wasn't as active as band in terms of travelling around, but you'd spend a few hours a week and do a handful of shows each year for the school and by extension our little town. Sherry is the second from the right in the first row.

Her love of and ability with music went outside high school as well. I remember being part of a quartet – two boys and the two of us – in our church that sang for services a few times. We did pop songs that could be spun as Christian. We were also in the church youth group together. I wish I had photos of those times together. But one of her friends sent me a copy of a photo of Sherry singing at their senior prom in 1989; she also sang with a group of girls as well as this solo I'm told. Prom is one of those "school" events that you don't have to do so I wanted to include this photo to show more of her individual talent.

Sherry bowled as well; she was a better bowler than I. This was an activity our clique did often; I wish I had photos of us all bowling, but these newspaper clippings will have to do. In this image we see the top bowlers, boys and girls, from the various grades. Sherry is the second from the left in the second row.

Here's a photo of my junior prom that included Sherry. In the first one, she must have been dating a junior or senior, or maybe she was part of the pre-dinner serving team.  I hope someone remembers and leaves a comment to clarify. Aunt Maureen made her dresses; my mother made mine.

I loved my dress color so much, and we were always looking to save money, so for my senior prom, my mother just changed the details of my previous year's dress, while Sherry sported a new design and color. Which do you like better -- white with red or this blue one? I like them both on her.

Some of her friends from high school have sent me other photos since this post went live on Friday, March 6, 2015. I wanted to add in some of their images of her with her friends. The most common private comment I've received from these old friends were that my memories have answered questions for them and that they, too, lost touch. I think it is only fair to show Sherry with the people who did care for her over those years in Vinton. Like your high school days, I'm sure, the last day was one of mischief and lots of photos. Here we see Sherry (back with her arm around a teacher/secretary) and a group of others cleaning out their lockers and threatening to throw away textbooks.

Here we have her with a group of girl friends some of whom I know were in my grade. I love how happy she seems here. Yes, it was the 1980s... check out some of the puffy hair styles.

Please, please share some fond memories of Sherry in the comments.

Some Thoughts on Rape as a Man's Issue, Part 2

Continuing my thoughts from last Friday I wanted to share the story of one male rape survivor who is also my partner because he and I discussed the study and my post about at some length.  I'll call him "S" to offer him privacy.  Those who may know him please respect that if he wanted to share this more with you, he would have done so already. He's allowing me to bring up what I do below in the hopes of getting folks to think.

My partner, S, and I have a lot in common even though we are 11 years apart in age.  Sadly, one of the things we have in common is surviving a series of childhood and teen sexual attacks, harassment, and rape.  We know when my abuse started and what happened at various ages; we aren't sure with him because he's decided he doesn't want to drag up the details.  It is a valid way to survive and live now even I'm always concerned there might be a flashback around the next corner.

His one rape we did talk about after last week's post here on this blog happened when S was a teenager, I believe 15 years old.  Here is what S has told me in the past: He was jumped by a group of older boys and men in the boys' bathroom at school after the normal day was over.  They threatened, they had at least one knife, they each anally raped him, then they shoved the knife inside and cut him up. Afterwards he pulled himself together, washed up as best he could, and went home.

S told no one until he told an online therapist years later and then told me a year after that.  His parents and sister still do not know.

The next morning he noticed a wide streak of white hair on his head so he dug around and found a hat.  He kept wearing hats, refusing to take them off even if he got into trouble with his parents, until the hair grew out enough that it was cut off.  Extreme shock seems able to do that to hair.

But S's way of surviving this went beyond not talking and wearing a hat.

S started growing out facial hair, wearing more "butch" clothing, taking on very public extracurricular activities so that he was never alone and was very much in the public eye.  The men/boys who raped him taunted him for being girly, for being a loner, he was going to stop those things from attracting any more attention.

S told me during our conversation last weekend that he never thought of it as "rape" because rape didn't happen to boys or men, only girls and women.  It took him a few years to even think of it as sexual assault.

"What was it?" I asked him.

"It was just the cost of being different," S automatically muttered then recovered and said, "I didn't have the words to describe it."

I hugged S so hard and so long after that.

I get the normal protective reaction that I'm sure other women and men have when they learn that their loved ones have been raped -- anger, thoughts of revenge, fear that I could harm in some inadvertent fashion.  But having been through this myself I know that my feelings and need to do something can in many ways be stealing the power from the survivor.

Instead I told S that he was a strong man, that he did an amazing job of getting through school, and that he was powerful for continuing to survive it.  If his rapists goals were to make him conform he's overcome that and turned into his own man.

The physical scars from the knife part of the rapes have impacted our love life so thanks a lot bastards for damaging one way my lover could enjoy sex!  However we embrace a multitude of sexuality so, once more, he's proved himself stronger than the rapists.

While his rapists harmed him deeply I think our rape culture harmed him even more.

This culture sets up the idea that men are rapists and women are victims. This culture denies that men/boys can be victims and therefore they great difficulty even doing the internal work to survive because to even admit that something was done against their will might strip a male survivor of manhood since the rape culture tells them that men can't be raped.  They turn the anger inward and harm themselves or outward and harm others; female survivors do this to but we have more public resources to help us fight those two anger directions.

S's rapists ultimately failed as he learned to be himself again and overcome the anger trying to harm him or make him harm others.

S proves himself to be more of a man every day than any of those rapists could ever hope to be as they cave into their impulses and violence probably over and over and over again since study upon study show that multiple rapes and multiple types of violence are very common among rapists.

Some Thoughts on Rape as a Man's Issue, Part 1

Today's thoughts were kicked off by this Slate article that looked at men and boys as victims of rape. This is very important to me, in part, because I worked during my college years to include men during rape awareness campaigns, not as potential perpetrators, but as potential victims. It is also important to me because I've had male family members and lovers, past and present, who are sexual assault survivors.  Not all of them were abused by other men and boys, though the majority were.

The key to understanding the article and the findings that men and boys are being raped at a much higher level than we had previously thought is this fact, according to the article:

in 2012, the FBI revised its definition and focused on penetration, with no mention of female (or force). [1]

Specifically the definition from the FBI is Penetration, no matter how slight, of the vagina or anus with any body part or object, or oral penetration by a sex organ of another person, without the consent of the victim. [2]

Let's unpack the sentence above.

Rape, according to the FBI, involves penetration of some object or body party by another person without consent of one of the people (called a victim).  There is nothing about a penis, and although we might argue that that is implied in the case of oral sex, I think that such nitpicking misses the point, which is that someone has not consented to penetration, and therefore a crime has been committed.

This means that anyone can be raped, and anyone can commit rape. Does that scare you?  While I can understand why this might feel scary, I think it is more reassuring to me that we may be on the verge of taking sexual violence a bit more seriously, at least at the FBI level.

You've probably heard the phrase "rape culture." Often we talk about women as objects, women as victims, women as survivors, what women can do to stop it or discourage it, women women women.

Every now and again we hear about how men can prevent rape, but generally in the sense of preventing them from becoming rapists, or how men can help protect women from becoming victims of rape.

This gendered rape discussion seems to create feelings of anger on both sides of what shouldn't ever be a debate -- forcing another person to engage in any type of sexual activity should never be okay, regardless of age, race, sex, orientation, or anything else.

If you do not have rights over your own body, then you have no rights at all.

Just accept the fact that men and boys are raped, and they are raped at a higher level than we ever imagined.

Who are their rapists?  Sure, other men and boys are the majority of perpetrators of rape against men and boys, but women and girls are also rapists.  Don't think that's so?  Go back and reread the new definition of rape.

Penetration, no matter how slight, of the vagina or anus with any body part or object, or oral penetration by a sex organ of another person, without the consent of the victim.

You can probably imagine how threats of violence or the use of weapons could create this situation, but that is "force," and the new definition doesn't require that. So if there is no force, how can rape happen?  (Some of the social and relationship pressures I'll discuss next also apply to women/girls, but I'm focused today on men/boys as survivors.)

This is a question of consent and what consent means.  The state of California has recently revised and expanded its rape definitions to include a long discussion of consent. [3]  I highly recommend you follow Source [3] to read it thoroughly, because I think it is brilliant and also has the possibility to change how we look at sexuality, especially if we can push for similar changes around the nation.

Let me just highlight the consent paragraph for you all: "Consent" means positive cooperation in act or attitude pursuant to an exercise of free will. The person must act freely and voluntarily and have knowledge of the nature of the act or transaction involved. A current or previous dating or marital relationship shall not be sufficient to constitute consent where consent is at issue in a prosecution. In prosecutions in which consent is at issue, evidence that the victim suggested, requested, or otherwise communicated to the defendant that the defendant use a condom or other birth control device, without additional evidence of consent, is not sufficient to constitute consent.

Wow, just think about this.  The phrases exercise of free will and freely and voluntarily are really standing out to me, because these call into question a ton of social and cultural expectations.

We teach our males that they must want sex all the time.  We pound it into their heads with TV, movies, music, clothing, discussions, books, religion, almost anything you can think of.

We hear repeatedly as girls that the only thing boys want is sex, so we teach our daughters and sons this, and we expect our boyfriends and husbands to constantly want sex.

As a society we spend millions of dollars on scientific research to create medications to help men "get it up."

In movies and TV, there are jokes about slipping these pills to men without their knowledge or laughing off complaints about too much sex when these complaints come from men.

As a society we taunt men who aren't interested in sex at the drop of a hat and question their masculinity, so they self-medicate or feel horrible if they just happen to not want sex tonight.

We promote sex as the happy ending to a couple's argument or the thing you have to do on anniversaries or for birthdays.

I can imagine that the pressure to have sex is very high for men and boys.

Is that pressure, then, the same as social rape?

I think this is a question we need to give some serious time to in our society, because just focusing on the female-victim/male-perpetrator concept is not solving our sexual problems.

______________
Sources:
[1] Slate Article
[2] PDF from FBI on the legal changes
[3] Stanford University rape definition article

#YesAllWomen -- The Chocolate Priestess's Story

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I wanted to expand on a post I did on Twitter and Facebook for the #YesAllWomen movement... or at least I hope it will become a movement that actually turns into actions and changes.  One way to try and do that is to continue to share stories so I'm going to start off what I hope is sharing by the rest of my sisters writing this blog.  Original text from my FB post is in Italics.

I am a survivor.

Some people still use the word victim perhaps because that is what the police use or what those who want to "help" use.  The problem with using or accepting the word victim is that it emphasises your powerlessness.  While your power may have been taken from you it was not all taken from you.  The fact that you survived, that you are here, shows that.  You could have given up, you could kill yourself, but you didn't, you haven't, you are here.

You are a survivor.

I survived childhood abuse ranging from the psychological to the sexual at the hands of men, boys, and even a mother. I tried to tell but nothing helpful was done.

When I was about 2 and a half, the boyfriend of my only sister who still lived at home digitally raped me while he put a hand over my mouth and told me that my sister liked this.  My parents weren't home and my sister was in another room.  He was fast and brutal, he was done by the time my sister came back into the room.  I didn't tell her because according to him she liked this sort of thing.

What type of little sister doesn't want to be like her big sister?

The next time he assaulted me it was with his brother at their house.  They opened their pants and brought out their dicks, they didn't touch, they didn't have to because their words, tone of voice, and actions threatened me.  I ran this time, I fell down the stairs trying to make my way back to my sister who was talking with their mother.  I told, the mother and brothers denied; I can't remember what my sister did other than take me home, but the boyfriend was with her.  I told my mother but the boyfriend said I was lying.  My mother believed me but didn't do anything other than forbid me being with the boyfriend without her there.

He came into my room a few months later at Christmas just to show me that he could still get to me if he wanted to.

The way my mother dealt with it was a pattern that made my mother partner to the abuse.

When I was assaulted by a cousin and witnessed him assaulting his sister and told both my mother and their grandmother who was their guardian... my mother kept me away from them for a good five years until we were in the same school.  I found out years later that my cousin raped his sister regularly after that point all through high school until she finally left.

By the time I was raped at the age of six by a high boyfriend of a high babysister, I didn't even bother telling my mother.  I just hid my bloody underpants in the trash and demanded a lock for my door.  I think she must have known because I never had a babysitter after that; my parents took me everywhere or we just stayed at home.

Her actions said that this was just something that happened that girls had to learn to deal with... I often wonder what happened to my mother when she was a girl but she never wanted to talk about it and she's dead now so I'll never know.

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I could have given up at that point but for some reason I instead started defending others and I learned to defend myself.

I should have given up, hidden away, since that was the pattern my mother showed me.  I didn't and I think I didn't because I had nieces and nephews ranging in age from only six months younger to 18 years younger.

Maybe my personality just isn't cut out for not defending others?  Maybe it's the same drive that pushed me to be a storyteller, leader, teacher, and dominant in my household.  By all rights it should have be nurtured out of me especially when coupled with my mother's psychological abuse that tried to get me to be the servant of all... YUCK!

I channeled her "lessons" into protecting others and by the time I was 16 I was starting to apply those lessons to protecting myself.

I survived a psychologically abusive boyfriend in high school who used to use his pets in an attempt to coerce me into activities I didn't want. I can't say the way I fought back was ideal but the coercion stopped.

I had a few boyfriends in high school and I stupidly went for the asshole instead of the nice boys who wanted to just please me.  I don't think it is because I really liked bad boys more, because frankly other than his attempts at violent emotional manipulation he wasn't bad in most ways.  He used to threaten the kittens on his farm, actually put one in a microwave and threatened to turn it on unless we went back to his bedroom and did something... I fought back by turning the tables on him sexually and I actually beat him up a few times in response to his threats.  The threats stopped.

Now I'm not saying that was a great way to fight back but frankly I never should have had to fight back at all!  He could have just asked for sex or even tried to seduce me into sex, that's part of our mating rituals, but threatening tiny animals?

These experience taught me some important things -- go for the nicer boys and you have the power.

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I survived sexual assaults when I was at college both in the USA and in Italy. I fought back each time and even contacted the police who managed to catch one of them.

Of course there may always be someone out there with more raw physical strength or the benefit of surprise.  You can't control others, only yourself.  I think it is very sad that I was trained by my high school in self-defense workshops to defend myself but it came in handy.

I was sexual assaulted by a complete stranger in my own dormitory in the basement one day.  I had seconds to think of what to do with him on top of me on the couch where I had been just watching TV waiting for my laundry to be done.  I told him that this was cool but I really needed to check my laundry and then I'd be back and not distracted by it.  I don't normally lie, I don't see the need 99.9% of the time, but I had lived with lies my entire life, I know how to do it and I did it well then.  I went out of the room toward the laundry and then up the stairs to get my RA who called campus security and the police.  The police were almost pleading with me to press charges, make a statement; I was surprised that they thought I'd do otherwise.  It turned out that this man had done this at least three previous times; he did it once more but because of my report the campus security was able to react faster and soon the police had him.

I don't blame the other women he assaulted for their assaults; I do blame them for not doing more about it after the fact.  I know that won't be a popular thing to say and I've probably pissed off my sister writers here on Butt-Kicking Women but I feel strongly that this is the truth.  As long as women do nothing, as long as we just mourn and cope then we continue to be powerless not by because we are but because we chose to be.  When you are quiet, when you refuse to press charges, when you shy away from letting others know, then you support your abusers continued behavior and you become his partner in crime just like my mother.

I didn't just stop there -- I wrote letters to the school newspaper and my hometown newspaper letting them know what happened to me.  I even stepped out into the hall when tour guides were bringing prospective students and parents to campus and told my story if I heard the tour guide make a stupid claim about how safe the dorm was.  I'm sure the university higher ups hated me.

In Rome I was fondled three times on the public bus system -- those were crimes of opportunity and crowdedness and I could have ignored them but I didn't.  The first I was with my boss from the library where I worked and told him immediately as I stepped away; he glared at the perp and stepped between us.  The second time I jerked away and told the guy off and some wonderful old lady started hitting him with her big purse.... big purses my Italian girl friends told me held big books so you could hit men who did that in public.  It was so common that no one stepped in when the old woman hit the perp and young women were prepared to carry big books to do this.

The third time I am most proud of my action because this time I grabbed the assaulting hand, curled mind into a fist around it, and punched back with it into the perp's own groin as hand as I could.  He gasped and pulled the stop cord and got off as quickly as he could.

I stopped taking the bus after that and just walked everywhere I needed to go unless I was with friends who could all gather around in a group.  Was that being afraid and letting my fear guide me or was it removing myself from potential threats?  I'd like to think it was the second.

I helped a group of other survivors in support groups, worked for the sexual violence awareness program on my campus, and as many of you know worked as an educator on sexual issues for a several years even when it brought me negative attention back in NYC at Columbia University. I've worked to educate not just the general public and those in the support groups but also health care providers.

I've done many things that I hope have been helpful not just for women but for men as well in regards to sexual violence and sexuality.  I pushed at Drake University to have a men's table for our Sexual Violence Awareness Week.  I reached out to men I knew had been raped or assaulted just to offer a shoulder, an ear, just plain old recognition that it happened to them, too.

I've spoken up to defend the men in my life when they have been targeted by other men for a perceived weakness in their manhood.

After I stopped letting myself be attracted to the "bigger man" and starting dating real men, I realized that they, too, are targeted by other men.  This ranges from the messages they receive in mass media to the fearful looks they get from women when they are in elevators or just walking down the street to actually assaults and insults from other men.

Before I got married my then boyfriend and I were walking down a street from my summer apartment to campus where I was working.  The frat house were on the way and as we walked some asshats decided that they needed to not catcall me but insult him by telling him how he didn't deserve a hot babe like me (also insulting to me by the way since I wasn't a work of art for them to jerk off to but another human being).  I turned around at one point and marched back and told the ringleader off. He was shocked, didn't know what to do, my boyfriend had to pull me away before I started getting physically violent.

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See just like I was motivate to protect my nieces, nephews, and others, I was motivated to protect him.  I've done this for other male friends and partners, too, but I also try to get them to talk and act on their own.

These asshole who were raised to think that they have a right to take whatever or whomever they want they don't listen to women or girls, they might or might not listen to their mothers, but they very well might listen to you.  Men, boys, fathers, uncles, grandfathers... the ball here is in your court.  Either teach yourselves and each other to control yourselves or you may discover that women and girls will reach out collective limit and fight back in a way you really don't want.

My point -- stand up for yourself and your loved ones, teach your children to stop all of this gender and sexual aggression, or in my opinion you are also the abusers that the rest of us must survive.

I haven't and won't do the one thing that is really going to make a difference -- raise my sons to be human beings and my daughters to be human beings, too.  I haven't had kids, I won't have any, for a lot of reasons.

Instead I try to empower the young women and men I've taught, I try to treat boys and girls I interact with fairly and evenly, but I'm not a parent so I have to trust that those of you who are can realize that YOU are the only real change that can work.

What have you done to stop the cycle of violence?

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Image Credits, Sites I found each image at:

Image 1: https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/yesallwomen?source=wtfrt&position=2&query_id=-1

Image 2: http://radioornot.com/blog/yesallwomen-and-chriss-dad-is-right/

Image 3: https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/470663166675144705/TETKi-RX.jpeg

Image 4: http://eyesonlife-ginahunter.blogspot.com/2014/04/violence-against-women.html

Through a Shattered Looking Glass

Recently Ariel Castro stunned many with his ramblings at his sentencing. He made a meandering twenty minute statement before the court where he blamed everyone but himself for the kidnapping, torture and rape of Michelle Knight, Gina De Jesus, and Amanda Berry.  He stated, "I am not a monster." He claimed he was "sick." He asserted that there was "harmony" in the house and that the women weren't really prisoners;he simply kept "them there without them being able to leave."

He stunned many when he said: "But, uh, most of the sex that went on in that house, practically all of it was consensual. This – this – these allegations about being forceful on them, that is totally wrong. There was times that they would even ask me for sex. Many times. And I learned that these girls are not virgins from their testimony to me. And they had multiple partners before me. All three of them."

News programs and talk shows covered every angle of his statement. Clearly he is a mad man! Surely his level of self delusion is great! They rightly concluded this is a man who deserves his thousand year sentence without parole. But then they moved on to the next thing without further reflection.

Is what Ariel Castro said that "stunning?" Are the delusions he is operating under unique to him or did we see, just for a moment, beyond the image in the mirror to the fractured reality?

Just this week, it was reported that prison officials and their lawyers are trying to avoid culpability for the rape of a 14 year old inmate by a corrections officer while she was in their custody. They argued, "“Vickers could not have engaged in sexual relations within the walls of the detention center with [the victim] without cooperation from her. Vickers did not use force, violence or intimidation when engaging in sexual relations."

Furthermore, an anonymous source told the Tri Parish Times, "These girls in the detention center are not Little Miss Muffin."

So here we have it! The state is arguing that the 14 year old girl consented to have sex with the corrections officer and thus there was no wrongdoing; there were no monsters! And an anonymous source has been quick to point out that girls in detention facilities are inherently naughty.

Let's put this into perspective here. Mary Doe, the fourteen year old victim, was an incarcerated fourteen year old. Prior to her incarceration she had lived a life rife with tragedy and sexual abuse beginning at age 5! Now she is in prison where she is completely dependent on the system. She is alone; her mother died when she was nine and the uncle who was given custody sexually assaulted her AND tried to kill her. Then came a much older male who had the power to make her situation marginally better or far worse. What choice did she really have? Maybe she just wanted to survive. Does that mean she wanted to have sex? Does that mean the sex was consensual?

And, why is this even a question because Louisiana's statutory rape laws say it's rape. She was fourteen years old!

Yes, this is the shattered looking glass of rape culture we are staring through here. The one where certain politicians pontificate about "legitimate" rape and moralize that a pregnancy from  rape is "something God intended." Perhaps it is a comfort to Ariel Castro to know that the daughter he fathered with Amanda Berry was planned by the almighty.

Ariel Castro kidnapped Michelle Knight when she was twenty-one, Amanda Berry at age sixteen, and Gina DeJesus at age fourteen. He believes he isn't a monster. He believes he provided a good home and that his victims wanted to be there, and wanted him. After all, they weren't virgins. The nation is shocked.

The state of Louisana argues they are not culpable in the case of a corrections officer in their employ who repeatedly raped a fourteen year old inmate. It wasn’t really rape because she didn’t fight. And after all, she wasn't a virgin. The nation doesn’t see the ugly reflection. It doesn’t see that these events are connected that they are simply shards from the same broken mirror.

*Edited by TB

When Women Look the Other Way: Enabling the Cycle of Abuse

(Raven Wing is on vacation this week. Prosey Rose is filling in for her this Wednesday.)

For the last week one of the hot videos making the round in social media, internet news sites and blogs is that of Monica Contreras being arrested “for making a false allegation against a police officer” in March 2011.

First, let’s be clear that this is NO such law in Nevada jurisdiction. Even putting aside the sexual assault, this arrest was a gross violation of Ms. Contreras’ rights.

But we cannot and should not put aside the sexual assault charges. In fact one of the most astounding thing about this incident is that Ms. Contreras is being arrested by the man she has just accused of sexual assault in front of another officer of the court, and the court Magistrate does nothing.

Before I go any further let me give you the chance to watch the video yourself from CBS Station KLAS as they first reported the incident in March. I warn you, while this is work safe, it is not easy to watch.

I-Team: Cover-Up Alleged in Family Court

The result of the internal affairs investigation led to Marshal Fox being fired. However, I don't want to focus on Fox's actions. I hate to say I'm jaded and not surprised by his actions.  It is difficult for many people to acknowledge, but we live in a rape culture. Most men (and women) are not “evil” or sexual predators, but how are we supposed know the difference?  We live everyday uncertain whether a family member, someone in the clergy, a teacher, a friend, a partner, a spouse, a stranger and yes even a law enforcement officer might sexually assault, abuse or exploit us.

This is a sad fact, one I learned at the age of thirteen at a slumber party. Of the five girls present all but one of us had been sexually assaulted or abused in some way by a man she was supposed to trust. Again, I stress, I do not believe all men are predators or rapists. I don't. However, if I am to bear any responsibility in my own safety then I must acknowledge the fact someone I know or encounter may indeed be a predator.

Focusing back on the incident, what shocked me the most was the Magistrate's reaction. Here we see a woman in a position of power. She's adorned in a vestment we associate with power, a judge's robe. Yet, she acts powerless. Worse, she acts less than powerless.

While Ms. Contreras is bearing witness to what happened to her, pleading for someone to hear and help her, Magistrate Doninger literally turns her back and interacts with Ms. Contreras' child. It's in that moment where I feel a visceral response to the video.

Something inside of me breaks. I am not saying Magistrate Doninger should have bounded over the bench like some sort of Wonder Woman and wrestled Ms. Contreras away from the Marshal. (Though isn't that a nice fantasy?)

(We can dream right? -  Wonder Woman image DC comics)

However, she was in a position to act like a judge. At the very least she should have listened to Ms. Contreras! She should have known the arresting charge was bogus! She should have at least questioned Marshal Fox regarding the allegations! She could have called in another Marshal to talk with Ms. Contreras!

Instead she sat with her back turned and interacted with Ms. Contrersas’ daughter; a child who showed more bravery than the judge! After all, the toddler told the Marshals, "Don't take my Momma! Leave her alone!"

I have to wonder then why? Why didn't the judge react? Was she afraid of making "waves" with the Marshal's? Is there such a "good old boys" club in the Clark County Family Court she would have lost what station she had if she had interfered? Had she suffered her own abuse? Why? I don't know what the answer is; but it doesn't absolve her of inaction in her own courtroom.

Watching Magistrate Doninger, I am reminded of mothers who pretend not to notice anything is wrong while their new boyfriends/husbands abuse their sons or daughters.

I am reminded of the character Serena Joy from Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaiden's Tale"  who would stand by and participation in the degradation of other women in order to keep her own power and position.

I am reminded of the Michelle Bachmanns, Sarah Palins and your favorite blonde Fox News host who constantly pundit against women's rights for their own political power and financial gain. Ann Coulter, among others, has even argued that women shouldn't have the right to vote!

It is true that some women may be survivors of abuse. Some women may be indoctrinated so thoroughly in their place of subservience and powerlessness they do not know how to intervene or help. These women may literally have been taught to turn away in denial.

Yet, does that mean we absolve them when they have the opportunity and the means, the power, to take action?  Does that mean we do not hold them accountable?

In the video Ms. Contrersa cries out, "How can you watch this?"  The judge answers by turning her back.

In the video Ms. Contrersa's bravery, and that of her daughter, is there for the world to see. The Magistrate's cowardice is also there to see. From both we must learn. In this culture where women are objectified to sell everything from pulled pork sandwiches to web domains we must each do what we can to reclaim our status as more than a sexualized object.

We have to find the courage to heal, to support, stand up and call out when we see abuse. We do have that power; If we don't use it, then we abdicate it and are settling for whatever power someone else deigns to give us.

For the record, Magistrate Doninger was terminated two years after the incident, in June 2013.


However, since that day when she turned her back on Ms. Contrersa, Patricia Doninger had two more years to sit on the bench making decisions impacting the lives of women, children and men. Her dismissal was quiet and without comment.