Remember This Name: Brock Allen Turner – The Stanford Rapist

Photo courtesy of Change.Org

My plan was to do an upbeat blog post for my turn at Broads of a Feather. Lord knows I’ve written a few emotional ones over the past few months. This time around I wanted to talk about the NYC trip I took with my oldest daughter. I guess that will have to wait until next time.

Over the course of the week, news of the sentencing outcome for the Stanford Rapist, Brock Allen Turner, came to the forefront of the news and you’d have to be living under a rock to miss it. Stories like this open old wounds for so many people who are the survivors of sexual assault. As members of a club we never wanted to be a part of, we are compelled to speak out against the injustices the victims of sexual assault endure.
In the case of the Stanford Rapist, Brock Allen Turner’s victim has been victimized again by the very system that is entrusted to bring justice to those who commit these ghastly and unforgivable crimes. You see, Brock Allen Turner is part of the Good Ol’ Boys’ Society. Instead of focusing on the fact that this deviant moved around the crowd at a campus party, attempting to force his groping hands and unwelcomed kisses on other female attendees (including the victim’s sister), who each sent him on his way, he managed to stumble upon the one female in the group who was unable to push off his advances due to being under the influence of alcohol, the judge, The Honorable Aaron Persky, decided to factor in Brock Allen Turner’s swim times and the impact the outcome would have on his promising future when he sentenced him to only six months in prison. Six months. Six fucking months on a crime that normally comes with a minimum sentence of fifteen years. I was speechless after reading about it. How could something like this happen? It’s 2016, for God’s sake! Have we not evolved at all?
And this wasn’t a simple case of He Said/She Said. Two male graduate students came upon the rape scene (Turner dragged her off behind a dumpster to violate her while she was unconscious) and had to give chase when Brock Allen Turner tried to run away. These two witnesses who had to describe, in full detail, what they witnessed and, still, Judge Persky gave that abominable six month sentence for three felony counts!!! Outrageous. Utterly outrageous. And then I came across the victim’s victim impact statement and I shed tears for a person I’ve never laid eyes upon. She eloquently conveyed her thoughts and feelings over her horrific experience and how it is effecting, not only her, but her family members and friends as well. On the day of Brock Allen Turner’s sentencing, she stood up in court and read her 7,000+ word statement and addressed the judge and her rapist. This young lady is not only a survivor, she is a warrior. Because of her speaking out, it brings more attention to the rabid rape culture many in our society still refuse to admit exists.

The face of a rapist. Brock Allen Turner's
mug shot.Photo courtesy of Stanford Dept.
 of Public Safety.

What made this story worse—and who thought it could get any worse?—Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner, also wrote a letter to the judge, begging for sentencing leniency for his son because, “His life will never be the one he dreamed about or worked so hard to achieve. That is a steep price to pay for 20 minutes of action out of his 20 plus years of life.” Twenty minutes of action?! Did he really say that? Was this really read aloud in court? With stellar parenting like that, is it any wonder why Brock Allen Turner preys upon unconscious women to sexually assault them? Well done, Dan! You’ve raised a monster who shares the same vile ideals as you do! A female is nothing more than a living, breathing fuck hole for you to do what you want with! What did you call it? Oh, that’s right! Getting some “action” while mixing in a generous portion of victim blaming. By saying what you did, you condoned his behavior. You feel that he was entitled to take what he wanted from a woman unable to even stay conscious while he savagely raped her.

And now an online fund raiser has been started for convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner to help his family with his legal fees. Are you fucking kidding me?! What is even more startling of a revelation? There will be assholes who contribute to this fund raiser.

Stanford law Professor Michele Landis Dauber has organized a campaign to recall The Honorable Judge Aaron Persky. If this story angers you, then add your name to the petition as well! Let’s remove this man from the bench so he can’t make any more abominable sentences that victimizes victims all over again. As of 3:13pm June 9th, 2016, the Change.Org campaign to recall Judge Persky has reached almost one million supporters. 
**Update 6:52pm June 9th** 
An online inmate record source has Brock Allen Turner entered into the system with a release date of September 2, 2016. Not only is his sentence cut in half, he never has to leave the local jail! How's that for entitlement most grand?    


Robin's Two Cents:

While I was at work tonight, Carol sent me a message telling me about her blogpost so that I could read it in draft and she gave me the opportunity to add my two cents to it. Or a nickel and a dime...

I'm angry.

The entire ordeal pisses me off.  Because, I too am a survivor of a sexual assault.

I can't believe I just typed that. I've never really even said those words out loud. In so many ways, my assault was minor and I've always felt that because it wasn't rape, that it didn't really count.  That my years of PTSD were over nothing. I didn't even really say as much when Carol did her When It Happened To Me post back in February.

But it wasn't nothing. It was something. And like the Stanford rape case, it was in the public. Even though it went unseen. I hope. Because if not, OMG! 

I had stopped at a local convenience store one afternoon when I was about 21, and as I was getting ready to pull away I spotted one of my uncles. So I stopped, I think I called out to him and he approached my car. It all happened so fast. I think he looked around the parking lot before reaching in my window, but I'm not sure.  All I know is that I thought my uncle, my father's brother, was reaching in to hug me...but no, he wasn't. He was groping my breasts.

"You know your Uncle Dickhead wouldn't do anything to hurt you, right?"

Those were his words to me when he was done.  I did the only thing I could think of at the time, full of shock, and that was to nod my head.  We parted ways after that.  I never saw him again as a matter of fact. This man who looked enough like my father that they could have been twins died about two months later. And I didn't even go to his funeral.

I can't even judge how long it took for the shock to wear off and the reality of it to hit me. I doubt the ladies at the library I visited minutes after this occurrence were able to tell that anything bad had happened to me. There was a part of my mind that was saying: 'No, you're in public. You can't break down now. You have to be normal. You don't want them to know what happened.'

When I got home, I told my mother what had happened. I was not discrete, everyone who was there at the time heard what had happened to me. The only thing I really remember about the conversation was a sister, who is a family-rape survivor, advised me that maybe there were some things we didn't need to talk about with the whole family. Why upset things? Or perhaps she was trying to save me from victim shaming. I don't really know.

But see, silence makes it easier for rape and assault and abuse to keep on happening. I later found out, that this uncle had a reputation for assaulting his nieces.  WTF???? Why wasn't this talked about? Why weren't we warned not to trust him????

Why was the only one who suggested that I call the police and press charges, someone who wasn't related to me? A nurse at the nursing home were I worked was the only one who suggested this, as I sobbed at the feet of an elderly woman I had been uncharacteristically cross with. I never did, and today - part of me regrets that. Part of me regrets letting that bastard die thinking that what he did to me was okay.

My heart goes out to the Stanford Rape Survivor. We all heal differently, at different speeds and different phases. I hope she isn't plagued for years with the fallout of her rape, even though I know better.

This is how I felt.. Shattered.
Only like I was bleeding internally.
Like I was bleeding everywhere.

Because of the silence, I internalized my anger and hatred and rage. Even though I was in counseling. I lost my job because it affected my work. I lost my next job because of the depression

I no longer felt safe. I always had to know where the doors were in restaurants, and I had to have my back against the wall...I needed to see what and who was coming at me and know where to bolt if I had to. I STILL do this, because part of me never feels like it needs to be on guard even if I 'feel' safe.

I could no longer be in a tight space, especially if there was a man also in that space with me - which  meant I could no longer serve in my church's communication center, because it was really just a cubby hole beneath the stairway

And once I started feeling claustrophobic and couldn't get myself out of the situation, that's when the anxiety would start. Not worry, sheer panic.

It's not as bad as it once was. But I still like to be in control of my situation. I like knowing what is going on in my work area, who is doing what.  Even though I don't feel threatened in any way by any of my coworkers, I still watch them from the corner of my eyes. Whenever someone walks through our area, my eye follows them.  I try not to panic when the carts full of product start getting too cluttered. I still lose my temper when I'm enclosed for too long and there's too many people

I hope the Stanford Rape Survivor's healing is different. I hope she shines in everything she does with her life. I hope she realizes that her life potential has not been diminished by what was done to her body.  I hope she realizes her value. I hope she has an amazing support group around her.

I hope her rapist rots. I hope her rapist's father rots. I hope her rapist's friend who also wrote a letter telling how 'respectful' of women he was - rots. Where they rot, I don't care. Just far away from The Survivor. I hope their friends turn on them. I hope work is uncomfortable. I hope the rapist can't even get a job and has to live at home with dad. I hope he chokes on steak and can never ever ever swim again.

I hope the men who stepped in and stopped the rapist are lauded forever as the heroes they are. I hope they are held up as examples of what men and women should do when they see a woman, a child, another man, in a situation where they are being harmed. Even if we forget their names like they want, may we never forget what they did. That they stood up for The Survivor when she couldn't stand for herself. That it didn't matter to them that she was drunk, that all they saw was a woman being harmed. May we also remember what they didn't do. There was no victim shaming. They didn't ask to take their turn at the "action".

Photo courtesy of  Healing Heart - Life After Rape

I hope Judge Aaron Persky - who is an alumnus of the same university as the rapist - looses his position.  I hope the petition Carol shared above is successful. That he looses the election.  Recalled. Anything to stop him from making this same horrible decision ever again. Brock the Rapist wasn't caught skipping school, or stealing a candy bar...he was caught raping a woman.  I hope the judge's family is kept safe though, it's not their fault.

If you haven't signed the petition Carol mentioned earlier, please do so now. As of 12:15am Friday morning, we are 3,866 signatures shy of making the goal.

That's all I have to say really. More than I intended, but still so inadequate.

Stop the madness.

Please. 

When It Happened To Me By: C.P. Stringham

Internet search meme from Justice for Jane Doe in
Steubenville with link. 

According to statistics compiled by the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network, known as RAINN, one out of every six women in the United States will be the victim of sexual assault in their lifetime. Let that sink in for a moment. Even if you are male, consider the likelihood that your grandmother, mother, aunt, sister, cousin, daughter, or granddaughter, one of them has been or will be the victim of sexual assault in their lifetime. If this statistic doesn’t make you angry, it should. If you aren’t angry, it also means YOU are part of the problem. This so-called “rape culture” you keep hearing about is real. The same research by RAINN also states that one in thirty-three men have been the victim of sexual assault. You see, sexual assault isn’t gender bias. As for the perpetrators, some are serial offenders who prey upon strangers when opportunity avails itself. They get off on the violence and control of the act. Others are authority figures; church leaders, coaches, counselors, neighbors, and family members who take advantage of those with whom they are entrusted with. And then there is the final group; those who seem to have a lack of understanding over what constitutes as sexual consent, so here's a video that pretty much dumbs it down for even the most obtuse person:

The tide is slowly turning for victims of sexual assault. They are stepping forward and sharing their stories in the hopes of helping other victims know they are not alone. Our society is being called upon to change this antiquated mindset of victim blaming. It is also time to hold the assailants responsible for their own behaviors. There are no acceptable excuses for their actions. None. "He had too much to drink." "He wasn't raised better." "He was a victim himself." Bullshit. Lady Gaga movingly performed Till It Happens To You during the 2016 Oscar’s last night. She, herself, the victim of sexual assault, had the courage to co-write and perform this song as her proclamation to the world. The lyrics are so true: Till it happens to you, you don’t know how it feels.  

This blog post has been a long time in the making for me. I’ve started writing it in my head many times over and, each time, I lose my nerve. Allow me some levity as I do what I feel compelled to do. In my Ellis Springs Series, the subject of rape is an ever-present theme in each volume, from the date rape of teen Kori Marshall to the marital rape of adult Grace Werner, readers follow along with how these victims cope in the aftermath of sexual assault. Grace’s affects her in such a way that she pursues a career as a county victim/witness advocate to help others find, not only the satisfaction of seeing their assailant pay for their crime, but to also assist the victim in finding the psychological help they need to work through their assault. Moving forward, I know authors are supposed to take the high road when it comes to negative reviews about their books. And I have. I truly look at each and every one of my reviews, good and bad, and use them to grow as an author. I appreciate when readers tell me what they liked and what they didn’t like. With that said, here I go with addressing one of my reviewers for my eBook A Moment’s Rest.  The female reviewer said, and I quote, “The author clearly has a political agenda to pursue, which I found distasteful and overbearing…Rape was covered in the first book, don't think we needed to do that so graphically again.” Well, she’s absolutely right. I do have a political agenda. However, did I overstep with the subject matter? No. No. And no. Let’s look at that statistic from RAINN again. One in six women will be the victim of a sexual assault in their lifetime. ONE IN SIX!!! I’m using my blog to tell our Broads of a Feather readers that I am one of those females who was the victim of sexual assault.

Internet search from Psychology Today with link to article.

So, you see, I have personal experience with this particular subject matter. I have carried the emotional baggage of shame, guilt, and fear for most of my life. Now, the chorus of our misguided rape culture will read this and comments like “you must have been asking for it” or “you had to be dressed promiscuously” will be said. For the record, I was a child victim of sexual assault. Just eleven years old. My assailant was an adult male over thirty years old and the uncle of a boy I rode the school bus with every day. I’m forty-five years old now. Thirty-five years have passed and I can still close my eyes and recall, in vivid detail, what he was wearing (right down to the Italian horn pendant he wore on a thick gold chain around his neck), I can hear the words he said to me to gain my trust, and even how his clothing smelled of fried foods and perspiration. My sexual assault, while not nearly as bad as what others have endured, is ingrained in my sensory memory as if it happened yesterday. I suffered in silence. I have never told my parents. I’ve never told a single family member because I thought what happened to me was my fault. I felt dirty and ashamed because I let it happen.  

Internet search from Unsafe at Home with link.

The first person I ever confided in was my husband and that didn’t come about until we were well into our first year of living together. I was twenty-one years old. Even now, thirty-five years later and I have only shared my story with a select few. While working in retail management over the course of eighteen years, the majority of my part-time employees were high school and college students. To some of them, I became the adult they could talk to about everything. Even their most horrid personal experiences. One teen told me how their grandfather had recently molested them. This high school girl’s family didn’t believe her. Not only did she endure being sexually assaulted by a trusted and loved family member, she was betrayed by the rest of her family and called a liar. Another told me about the savage rape they’d experienced at the hands of a complete stranger. This same employee wrote poetry and asked me to read the poem she wrote about her experience—a poem in which she compared rape to death and how it had robbed her of who she used to be. I remember driving home that night and crying for her. Crying for myself. So much she had written hit home with my own feelings. The entire time these young people came to trust me with their secrets, I questioned my own inability to talk about my experience. I was no longer the scared little girl. Enough time had passed and I wasn’t in any danger of meeting my assailant again. As the years passed and I encountered others who had similar experiences to mine, I finally talked about what I went through. But, still, it was only to a handful of people. For some reason, I couldn’t openly talk about it. It’s only been since the whole Jerry Sandusky thing that I have addressed it and again, to a select few. The Penn State cover-up angered me when I had friends defending the actions of the university’s administration. I grew tired hearing how the victims came from broken homes and their parents should have known and how they didn’t protect their children. Even some blamed the victims because they kept quiet for so long. They accused the victims of coming forward solely based on monetary reasons with the opportunity of upcoming lawsuits that were bound to happen. I didn’t come from a broken home. My parents did care, they never knew, and they did protect me. I grew up when the world was different and naive. Sexual assault simply wasn’t talked about. People were trusted because no one realized how prolific it was. I told my oldest daughter about my experience three years ago. I felt it my duty to let her know that I was a victim. She was dating age and I wanted her to be able to see a face with the national statistic. I think it is prudent of victims of sexual assault to make others see faces with the statistic. This epidemic needs to have a face, a familiar face, in order for members of our society to feel a personal stake in it. Only then can the stigma attached to victims go away and our rampant rape culture be dealt with.

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month

Due to what happened to me at eleven years old, it shaped me into the parent I am today. Some may call it paranoia, but I prefer to think of myself as a vigilant parent. It takes a lot of time before I trust anyone with my children. I have to know that family members aren’t going to be lax while my children are in their care. I have to know the people who my children may come into contact with while they are in their company. I’m always on guard when we are out in public. There is a difference between a male admiring your cute teen daughter from afar and another who seems to be lurking and fixated. I’ve learned to trust my gut. If someone seems a little off, then it is with good reason to avoid that person at all costs because it only takes a second for something to happen. 
**As an Addendum to my original post, I wanted to mention the outpouring of support, encouragement, and love I have received since going public with my story. Not only have readers posted comments to this blog post, my personal Facebook page, and my author Facebook page, I have also received private messages from other victims/survivors--some who have already publicly shared the burden of their experience and some who have not yet reached the point of being able to really talk about it all. I wanted to post one of the comments on the actual blog portion for others to more easily see. 

  Jill Marie: Thank you for your bravery. The darkness of abuse cannot flourish in the light of brave and compassionate people. There is much work that needs to be done to improve outcomes and support for victims, but few are willing to do it. Awareness is key. I would encourage parents of young children to teach body safety. I didn't do this nearly early enough. If anyone discloses abuse to you, don't ask 'are you sure?'. It may be the last time they utter a word of it and there may then be countless other victims. Do not trust that the legal system will fix this problem. We need many, many, concerned, educated, and passionate society members so that we can have a safe, healthy, and productive society. There is no one to blame for any type of abuse on another person than the perpetrator, those who hide the truth, or those that attack the victim. C.P. Stringham, thank you for sharing. 

My name is C.P. Stringham. I am a wife, a mother, an author, and the victim survivor of sexual assault. To our blog readers who suffer in silence,  please know that you are not alone.  

   Resources for Statistics & Help:

90% of cases are never reported

Which means the majority of sexual offenders are walking the streets free and unknown to society.

Why? It often takes a long time for the child to tell someone, and even though they may disclose to a friend, therapist, or family member - it's not being reported. The child & family may not want to face the difficulty of having to go through the investigation & possibly a trial. The person may not believe the child. And often, since it takes so long for children to finally tell - many are often adults by the time they disclose their abuse. - From The Mama Bear Effect Website.

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www.rainn.org with link 

Women:

1 out of every 6 American women has been the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime (14.8% completed rape; 2.8% attempted rape).¹

17.7 million American women have been victims of attempted or completed rape.¹

9 of every 10 rape victims were female in 2003.²

                                       ^Men:

                                                              About 3% of American men — or 1 in 33 — have                                                       experienced an attempted or completed rape in their lifetime.¹

• From 1995-2010, 9% of rape and sexual assault victims were male.¹⁰
• 2.78 million men in the U.S. have been victims of sexual assault or rape.¹

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www.nomore.org with link

Listen without judgement

If someone you know discloses that they are experiencing abuse now or have in the past, remember this could be the first time they’re telling someone. Listening without judgment or blame and letting the person know they’re not alone can make a huge difference. If the victim/survivor you care about or you are in need of support, ask them if they’d like to talk to a professional counselor, and offer to sit with them while they call the 24-hour national hotlines. While you may have a strong reaction to what happened, it’s important to focus and fully listen to the survivor’s words. 

Tip (via the Joyful Heart Foundation’s 6 Steps to Supporting a Survivor) → Sometimes you don’t even need words (or at least, many words), to be there for someone. Many people share that just being able to tell their story to someone else lessens the weight of isolation, secrecy and self-blame. Remember, listening alone can make a huge difference in someone’s life.

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1. Listen. 

Sometimes you don’t even need words (or at least, a lot of words), to be there for someone. Many people share that just being able to tell their story to someone else lessens the weight of isolation, secrecy and self-blame. Remember, listening in and of itself is an act of love. 

2. Validate. 

Think about a time when you felt vulnerable or faced a crisis, and think of what helped you the most. Chances are that it was not a specific conversation that you had, but it was the knowledge and comfort the person or people you told were there for you, believed in you, were on your side and were committed to supporting you through a hard time. 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” 

“I believe you.”

“This is not your fault.” 

“You’re not alone. I’m here for you and I’m glad you told me.”

Often times, a survivor may feel like what happened to them is their fault. We are bombarded with victim-blaming myths and attitudes in our society, and they can sink in…deeply. But no action excuses a person hurting someone else. Violence and abuse is never the victim’s fault. That responsibility and shame lies with the perpetrator. It can be helpful to communicate that gently and repeatedly.

“Nothing you did or could’ve done differently makes this your fault.”

“The responsibility is on the person who hurt you.”

“No one ever has the right to hurt you.”

“I promise, you didn’t ask for this.”

“I know that it can feel like you did something wrong, but you didn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter if you did or didn’t _______. No one asks to be hurt in this way.”

3. Ask what more you can do to help. 

Violence and abuse is about power and control. It is vital for survivors to regain their sense of personal power and agency. Instead of pushing someone into taking actions for which they are not ready, ask how you can support them. 

4. Know where to point someone to for more help. 

You can best help the survivor by offering options and leaving space for them to decide where to go from there. Here are some national resources—services that can point someone to local resources in your area. 

Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network Sexual Assault Helpline

1.800.656.4673 | www.rainn.org

National Child Abuse Hotline

1.800.422.4453 | www.childhelp.org

National Domestic Violence Hotline

1.800.799.7233 | www.ndvh.org

National Teen Dating Abuse Helpline

1.866.331.9474 | www.loveisrespect.org

5. Keep an open heart. 

Remind them that you are available should they like to talk about their experiences further. The healing journey can be a long one, full of many challenging—but sometimes joyful and liberating—conversations. Knowing that you are there to support along the way can make a big difference for someone. 

“If we are able to communicate only one thing about your role in a survivor’s journey, it is this: never ever underestimate your power to affect its course.”  

- Maile Zambuto, Joyful Heart CEO

 6. Finally, care for yourself. 

There is a limit to what we are able to take in and process. The stories of someone else’s hardships related to a traumatic event can impact or become a part of us. This experience of second-hand trauma—often called vicarious trauma—is a human response to coming face-to-face with the reality of trauma and the difficulties of the human experience. 

It’s important to care for yourself as you support another person. You cannot be your best self in your supportive role if you find yourself too tired to listen with care and compassion, or overfilled with your own emotions in response to another’s trauma. These feelings are totally valid. Take some time after a conversation to enjoy the outdoors, or do a healthy activity that makes you feel good as a way of re-centering yourself. We have more ideas on how to mitigate vicarious trauma here.

Remember, you can be your best self for someone else when you give yourself the space to honor your own needs.

- See more at: http://www.joyfulheartfoundation.org/blog/6-steps-supporting-survivor#sthash.N7xDVihW.dpuf