The Elephant In the Room

The Seriousness of Rape Culture

I wrote this almost three years. I think it is just as important now as it was then. Please Read!

I was 20 years old, the first time it happened. I did not expect it and wondered, why me. The heavy reality of feeling the weight of someone telling their vulnerable story of rape and then say, “You are the only person who knows what happened.” It would not be the last time I would hear this phrase from a person’s mouth. Over the past 10 years, I heard at least a dozen stories from people who trusted me enough to share in their pain of how another person took control of their body. They wanted me to be the first to know how it defines them.

I might be nice, but I would never win “Most Congenial.” I hear more people say I look miserable because I rarely smile. (That’s another story, but I swear life is too good, and I’m satisfied with it). Others say I can be intimidating (I’m not sure why, I’m a regular guy), but for some reason, they put faith in me to never describe their story with their name to another soul. And you know what… it bothers me. It bothers me that men and women place that much weight on my shoulders and both of us remain silent, and pretend it never happened.

This is why the story of the Vanderbilt football players never startled me; after hearing stories of rapes by the football team and others go on for years (and no one ever dealing with that history), I became numb. Is that wrong of me? I’ll let you decide that matter. But the issue for me is no different than a person who sees people die around them so much, death becomes the norm. I write this saying, “Rape has become the norm because I know so many people raped around me, I know longer bat an eye.” More than it being the norm, the culture of silent sexualities scream loud, and we cover it up in Political Correctness.

Then, I hear another side of the story, (I’ll let you be the judge for this as well), of people who stay to themselves and are no longer social, because people see them as a rapist. A story or two has come my way about compromising situations of two people not belonging to the other (they were in relationships with other people). When the story came to light, one person called rape, and the other person dealt with the responsibility of being a problem. Was alcohol involved? In some of the stories both parties were drinking. Was a person incoherent? Supposedly they discussed the details in bed the next morning? Did anyone say no? Supposedly not, and the situation occurred more than once. I’ll stop with the questions, but I believe you get the point that when the issue of rape happens, there are many complexities that polarize people.

Some will say, “Well it isn’t as if that person has a good reputation of keeping their business out the streets.” Others might say, “Well that person has always had a bad temper.” On the corner the residents might say, “The person just wants attention.” At the hair salon they discuss, “Well they have always been aggressive.” The situation no longer deals with what happened at the time of the incident, it goes to “Who do people say you are?” It is this way because people are unsettled with sitting with the story of somebody taking another person’s body to have dominion over it like property… or they did not.

Which brings me to my point, how does it feel to be uncomfortable? How does it feel to know a truth happened but you do not want to deal with how your stomach feels sick, how the blood in your veins feel warm, how your head seems clouded and heavy, and how your eyes fight to control the tears. Rape is uncomfortable, but more importantly, the systematic structure of Sexuality is uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable because the concrete foundation of “This is what boys do, and this is what girls do” has crumbled. The box of gender fixations, sexual attractions, sex roles, relationship guidelines, household positions have not caught up to the rapid and changing context in the world we reside. Instead of talking about it, we POLITICALLY talk about the accused automatically being wrong, because no one wants to look as if they support rape. On top of the fact, someone is violently subjugated with sex as a weapon and now losing hope in love and numb to other people. No one ever wants to be on the wrong side, so we take a side that makes us no longer feel uncomfortable, but relieved from feeling responsible.

Now let me bring back the questions. As a culture, do we talk about a rape culture before a rape occurs to keep communities accountable? Or do we play personal responsibility roles so groups do not feel the pain of rape? Do we teach boys and girls about the seriousness of rape culture and sexuality? Do we say they are too young to know right now? Do we skim through teaching it to teenagers because it makes you feel like a sexual deviant or recall your own sexual resume? Do we take it serious at job orientations, or speed through it because people are old enough to know by now? Do we discuss it at church? Or do we just give blanket statements of, “Don’t do it because it’s wrong,” while congregations are full of STDs, closet sexualities of Self and Family violence, adultery, unwanted children, and power moves of submission? Do we talk about it at school? Or do we remain silent as kids play bathroom hide and seek in the same stall?

And when we do talk about it, do we talk about it in a way of glamour? Do we talk about it in ways that make people feel that it’s cool to say I was raped too, worship at my feet? Do we talk about it to make a person feel like a conqueror because of a few minutes of bumping and grinding? Do we talk about it to make people feel sex is the only or best way to express love? Do we talk about sexual responsibility past the first encounter? Do we talk about sexual responsibility of never assuming your partner is clean knowingly or unknowingly? Rape is uncomfortable because we implicitly use sexuality not just by who we are attracted to, or what roles people play in socializing with others, but because we use it to keep a person on top and the other, a bottom bitch.

We are hurting each other by making rape an imaginary game and not living with the grotesque nature of a sexual culture that leaves behind a residue of stickiness, like a money shot. Can we talk about the taboo everywhere, so people no longer feel its destructive ramifications anywhere?

I might have children one day, and I do not want a daughter or son being a victim or predator to a word that plays a role in a higher systemic mess we ignore or use to blame a person so a community, nation, or world does not feel empathy or guilt.

Rape Culture is not always clear, but it is serious. It is a character in a play that has different vantage points. In no way do I disregard any story told to me as if a person has to validate a rape. And in no way do I want to throw a stone just so I play for the right team. I want all to feel the awkward tension of knowing a citizen of the human race was injured, so we do something about it.

The people who shared their stories with me were injured.Their injury affected me. I felt only a speck of that injury and emotionally, I still remain in ICU. I feel that we must take hold of the SERIOUSNESS to make sure no one feels injured again. There are no victories in rape. Let’s not play it as if it’s a joke or win on any end. Let’s repair the broken pieces by dealing with the unnerving sensation that brings up many questions that need spoken about regardless if you are right or wrong. Your words can be the key to open a door of wonder to dispel a rape culture… even if your response is out of ignorance. Take a risk. No, this is not about tough skin, because the Uncomfortable eats through tough skin when needed. It is about understanding not what people call the “Other,” but another human that eats, breathes, defecates, cries, laughs, loves, hates, and is hypocritical just like you and me. We need to get over the fact that we can be wrong, but that should not paralyze us from right. Let’s search all of the story and not just the part that takes away our blame. Otherwise, we all lose.