I don’t watch television or the news anymore. I have a local station whose website I visit every so often to read up on events. Other than that, what little I get of my news comes from Facebook posts.
Of course the story of Stanford’s own Brock Turner has been yuuuge in my feed. It made me angry, and it echoed a story from my college years: The Spur Posse.
(TL;DR: The Spur Posse were a group of teenaged boys in Lakewood, CA who had sex with young girls for points back in 1993, one as young as ten. There was no internet, so they did the daytime talk-show circuit for awhile and bragged to the world about what they’d done. There was outrage, panic, blame. There was a trial.)
And of course there was dear old Dad, speaking on behalf of his son:
Mr. Belman said his son was “all man.” The girls that Kris had sex with were “giving it away,” Mr. Belman added. “There wouldn’t be enough jails in America” if all boys were imprisoned for doing what his son was accused of, he said.
Granted, the story of Brock Turner is different in some respects. Most of the members of the Spur Posse came from broken homes. Turner seems to come from an intact family of privilege. Most of the members of the Spur Posse were in high school. Turner is a student enrolled in a prestigious private university, arguably one of the most prestigious in the world.
But the same issues are at play: patriarchy; consent; and violence.
Like the Spur Posse, there is outrage, panic, blame. The number of TV channels is higher than 1993 by a factor of 1000, and we also have social media which is quite possibly the world’s most elaborate version of the “telephone game.” Everyone has a viewpoint (see: this post). We can view/watch/read/respond to them all 24/7 via a handheld device which quaintly uses the word “Phone” in its name.
And just like in 1993, we have dear old dad:
His life will never be the one that he dreamed about and 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.” — Dan A. Turner (Very Respectfully)
Many people have talked about the role of alcohol in this incident. While alcohol abuse continues to skyrocket in our country, far be it from me to judge the awful things any person can do under the influence of substances. As a person in long-term recovery from substance use disorder, I recognize that I am accountable for every stupid, laughable and horrendous word and deed I engaged in — because I’m an adult. Sobriety (or lack thereof) has no bearing. There is always a reckoning.
What we’ve got in our country is a crisis that has spanned decades, if not centuries. We’ve raised generations of men who have absolutely no emotional awareness, both of themselves and others. Moreover, this lack of emotional awareness is held up as masculine, while the (healthy) opposite is considered feminine, lesser, “weak.” The only tools they’re given to exorcise those emotions involve some type of violence.
That violence can take many forms. In the case of Brock Turner, it was sexual violence. Entitlement + lack of empathy + a desire for power/control (and yes, plus alcohol) = a recipe for violence.
“He admitted to kissing other girls at that party, one of whom was my own sister who pushed him away. He admitted to wanting to hook up with someone. I was the wounded antelope of the herd, completely alone and vulnerable, physically unable to fend for myself, and he chose me.” — from the Stanford victim’s letter.
In some cases, the violence is physical, possibly done in the interest of child-rearing. Fathers, beaten by their own fathers, emotionally abused by their fathers, then passing that on to their children without a second thought (“spare the rod and spoil the child”). Even in an age where we clearly know that this kind of abuse and trauma (both physical and emotional) creates changes in a child’s DNA with long-lasting health consequences — violence prevails.
In other cases, the violence can involve dismissiveness, prejudice and neglect — passively or actively. Like the spouse/partner who works but refuses to help out at home (“that’s women’s work”). Like the legislators in my home state of North Carolina (who clearly have been checking out the genitals of their fellow stall-mates) passing an 11th hour bill declaring that people who identify with a given gender cannot use the bathroom corresponding to said gender (“to protect our women and daughters from ‘perverts’” — as though everyone who isn’t cis-gender has got to be a pervert). Like the current Republican presidential nominee who has seemingly found a way to demean everyone who isn’t him. All acts of violence.
I grew up in a household of divorce, and endured traumatic events within my family before I was even 13. By all rights I should’ve become a monster. I’m not certain how I escaped. My attachment to music, to writing, to art, to fearless self-expression (“feminine traits”) have always provided me with relief from pain, and taught me that emotions can be expressed in healthy ways. My problem was an inability to let go of those negative experiences, and a lack of any kind of coping mechanisms such as breathing, meditation, etc. (I mean, if you’re pissed at someone in the moment you can’t really tell them you’re going to go home and write a song about how much they suck). Which then caused me to turn to alcohol. So it’s entirely possible that my addictions and subsequent recovery was a big catalyst for self-discovery, albeit very painful and far too late in coming.
The point is no one should have to wait until they’ve endured 15 years of active addiction and near-death experiences to learn how to deal with their emotions. Likewise, no young woman should have to endure the suffering she did because Brock Turner believed he was entitled to “20 minutes of action.” The case of Brock Turner is yet another reason why we need to focus more attention on mental health and well-being in this country. Emotionally unaware people will act without empathy, without kindness, without pity. They will almost universally act in the interest of self, of fear, of pleasure. They will act out of blind instinct, without any regard for consequences.
The solutions begin at home. Brock Turner wasn’t born a rapist, but clearly learned certain attitudes growing up that allowed him to gravitate in the direction of what was more pleasurable, than what was right. Children learn from their parents. I made a hard choice to make major changes in my life, and acted on those choices. That’s what adults do, and children need to see that. Like John Pavlovitz said in his open letter to Brock’s father:
The solutions don’t have to stop at home. We can begin instituting wellness programs in schools. We can teach our children that their emotions, “masculine” or “feminine,” are nothing to be ashamed of — and then give them healthy ways to cope. And if they can learn to respect themselves, they will learn to respect others — much like the Stanford victim’s rescuers (both men) did. Unfortunately, the “spare the rod” crowd will still be there to try and prevent such things from happening.
But we can’t stop trying.
