Post by Erica Chan on Oct 19, 2010 19:10:18 GMT -5
TRIGGER WARNING: This article talks about rape in a very open and confronting way that may be triggering.
IT'S the end of the AFL and rugby league seasons, so everyone's talking about rape. Or, more specifically, about the young women who were so stupid as to put themselves in a position where they'd be raped or claim they were later.
Kerri-Anne Kennerley condemned female "strays" who "throw . . . themselves at sportspeople". Former AFL player Peter "Spida" Everitt blamed "yet another . . . girl making alleged allegations after she awoke with . . . an alleged guilty conscience".
I've been raped. Twice. The first time was my first time – I was 17 – but I didn't think of it as rape. Not even when the nightmares began and, following that, the depression.
I just thought I was a stupid girl who put myself in harm's way and got what I deserved. Embarrassed at being so dumb, I told no one what happened. It was only years later when I stubbed my toe and couldn't stop crying that my mother strong-armed me into seeing a psychologist and the story came out.
The second time was when an old boyfriend got my half-asleep roommate to let him into the house in the middle of the night. I was in my room and woke having sex. Surely this was a clear-cut case of rape but I didn't see it that way. Because I was now 21 and understood that you can't thread a moving needle and I'd had sex with him before, so what was the big deal and if I hadn't wanted it, why didn't I scream?
In fact, what I did then and later was pretend that everything was fine. I acted like what happened was exactly what I chose to happen. I was not prepared to contemplate the alternative framing of events and its emotional corollary – that I'd been raped again and this meant that I wasn't safe anywhere, not even in my own bed.
I don't want pity. Indeed, it's fear of being seen as a victim that has led me to keep my personal story quiet thus far. I tell it now to try to inject the complex reality of sexual assault – how it happens and how victims process it – into public discussion of the issue.
I also want to point to the contribution gender stereotypes make to the problem. Like young women today, I was sold a double message. The explicit one was that I was strong and capable and free to do what I chose with my life and body, sexually and otherwise, and not be judged for it. The subterranean one was that if I acted as if I was entitled to be both free and safe, and someone did hurt or rape me, it was my own stupid, sluttish fault.
These contradictory messages coexisted quietly in my psyche just as they do in those of young women today – as well as the national psyche – until the Kennerleys and Everitts of the world lay them bare.
Are things improving? In some ways, I think young women today have it worse. I found the good girl/slut dichotomy difficult enough to reconcile. They must pursue the good-girl seal of approval while simultaneously trying to dodge the epithets slut and frigid.
But there are positive signs that some young men are changing. They respect women, are across the concept of consent and – in response to young women's more assertive sexuality – are interrogating the "real men always want it" stereotype as a first step towards a "no means no" mantra of their own.
Watch this space.
www.cannold.com
lcannold@sunherald.com.au[/size]
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I didn't think of it as rape. Not even when the nightmares began.
By Leslie Cannold in the Western Australian Times Online
By Leslie Cannold in the Western Australian Times Online
IT'S the end of the AFL and rugby league seasons, so everyone's talking about rape. Or, more specifically, about the young women who were so stupid as to put themselves in a position where they'd be raped or claim they were later.
Kerri-Anne Kennerley condemned female "strays" who "throw . . . themselves at sportspeople". Former AFL player Peter "Spida" Everitt blamed "yet another . . . girl making alleged allegations after she awoke with . . . an alleged guilty conscience".
I've been raped. Twice. The first time was my first time – I was 17 – but I didn't think of it as rape. Not even when the nightmares began and, following that, the depression.
I just thought I was a stupid girl who put myself in harm's way and got what I deserved. Embarrassed at being so dumb, I told no one what happened. It was only years later when I stubbed my toe and couldn't stop crying that my mother strong-armed me into seeing a psychologist and the story came out.
The second time was when an old boyfriend got my half-asleep roommate to let him into the house in the middle of the night. I was in my room and woke having sex. Surely this was a clear-cut case of rape but I didn't see it that way. Because I was now 21 and understood that you can't thread a moving needle and I'd had sex with him before, so what was the big deal and if I hadn't wanted it, why didn't I scream?
In fact, what I did then and later was pretend that everything was fine. I acted like what happened was exactly what I chose to happen. I was not prepared to contemplate the alternative framing of events and its emotional corollary – that I'd been raped again and this meant that I wasn't safe anywhere, not even in my own bed.
I don't want pity. Indeed, it's fear of being seen as a victim that has led me to keep my personal story quiet thus far. I tell it now to try to inject the complex reality of sexual assault – how it happens and how victims process it – into public discussion of the issue.
I also want to point to the contribution gender stereotypes make to the problem. Like young women today, I was sold a double message. The explicit one was that I was strong and capable and free to do what I chose with my life and body, sexually and otherwise, and not be judged for it. The subterranean one was that if I acted as if I was entitled to be both free and safe, and someone did hurt or rape me, it was my own stupid, sluttish fault.
These contradictory messages coexisted quietly in my psyche just as they do in those of young women today – as well as the national psyche – until the Kennerleys and Everitts of the world lay them bare.
Are things improving? In some ways, I think young women today have it worse. I found the good girl/slut dichotomy difficult enough to reconcile. They must pursue the good-girl seal of approval while simultaneously trying to dodge the epithets slut and frigid.
But there are positive signs that some young men are changing. They respect women, are across the concept of consent and – in response to young women's more assertive sexuality – are interrogating the "real men always want it" stereotype as a first step towards a "no means no" mantra of their own.
Watch this space.
www.cannold.com
lcannold@sunherald.com.au[/size]
Unfortunately, I don't think any mainstream papers actually have trigger warnings... or maybe I'm wrong?