Saturday, December 28, 2013

Arizona: Where You Can Rape With Impunity

I remember when all the hoopla began. Lou Dobbs was still a very prominent figure head on CNN.  National and local media outlets constantly struck fear into the hearts of those still on alert because of attacks on U.S. soil.  The boogeyman was coming.  And who was that boogeyman?  The dark, the brown, the RAPIST. The dreaded, the feared, the “illegal.” 

Its hard for me to write about this because it makes me so angry.  Especially because it was such a lie. Most undocumented were just coming to work, not rape, and Sheriff Joe systematically ignored rape cases. He failed to go after real rapists while a rape fear campaign kept him in office. And he is still in office. Excuse me while I throw up for a second.


I’m going to come out with something very personal. It has been only recently that I’ve been able to talk about it openly.

The incident happened over a decade ago, in my first few weeks as a student at Arizona State University. But, it is only recently that I have begun to understand my own feelings. The beginning of 2013 was kind of horrible for me... I was working on a project dealing with domestic violence and rape in Indian Country. It was hard for me to concentrate on this work. The Stuebenville saga and the phenomena of rape culture was all over the media. I started having flashbacks. I would start to cry uncontrollably, shake, and have anxiety attacks.  I didn’t understand it.  Why am I freaking out all of a sudden, over something that happened over ten years ago?  

Then it dawned on me. I realized my denial. Previously, I couldn’t even bring myself to acknowledge the R word. Part of it was because at the time I blamed myself. I was underage, I went to a party, and I had one drink. I was doing "illegal" things in that sense. I blacked out, and when I woke up the next morning, my body felt a sense of euphoria, like I was on drugs. My girlfriends, who were drunk at the party, told me what happened. I immediately started to cry. At the time I was still fairly innocent. I phoned my “friend” who had thrown the party, the main perpetrator.  He immediately denied knowing I had been drugged.  I accepted it, maybe because I wanted to. I didn’t want to implicate myself for underage drinking. I didn’t report it.  I thought, what is the big deal?  I don’t even remember.  Its not like I feel the same trauma as someone who can remember.

Flash forward ten years. The realizations hit me suddenly, like the whole thing was a two by four that suddenly banged me over the head. How could I have believed him?!?  Prior to the incident I had repeatedly turned him down.  He knew I wouldn’t have done anything with him in that way. He and his buddies had another room apart from the party to take girls they had drugged. Witnesses say he let two other male friends partake after he had his way with me, and he admitted this in our phone conversation. It was obvious to the witnesses I wasn’t drunk…. I wasn’t even slurring or acting like a drunk person would. Instead, I was putting sentences together in strange incoherent ways, and acting like I was in a daze. Apparently, I was conscious. It should have been obvious. How could he not know? 

One of the reasons I get so outraged at Sheriff Joe Arpaio, is because it is so personal, and he allowed my situation to happen to other people unpenalized. What if I had reported it?  I would have been blamed, just like the girl in Steubenville, if they ever even decided to investigate. My undergraduate experience would have probably been awful. Especially given at the time, I would have had to rely on Maricopa County police.  Sheriff Joe’s guys. The same ones who are known not do give a damn about rape. Voters have known this for many years. And he is still in office. What the hell is wrong with you Arizona?

Here are some background stories on the issue:
 




Another thought that always accompanies my outrage: What about undocumented women?  Even though I don’t believe they would have helped me, I do recognize at least I had the ability to call the cops.  If an undocumented woman is abused, if she is raped... she has nobody to call.  The police would treat her as if she was the criminal.  I’ve read about undocumented women being raped while in police and border patrol custody. They can do whatever they want. The majority of Arizona voters don't seem to care. 

I think I'm healing, but there are little things that bring all the outrage, hurt, and emotions to the forefront. As I scroll down my Facebook feed, I come across a "Christian" man who believes undocumented should have "no rights" because, (what else?) "they are illegal."  Well, you hypocrite, I hope you feel my wrath. You are the problem. You empower the oppressors and encourage rape. It is because of ideas like yours that officers feel like they have the green light to rape and assault as they wish. And they do. How frequently does this happen? God only knows.

Arizona, your concepts of right and wrong, legal and illegal physically make me sick. You absolutely disgust me, and you deserve every scathing target of my fury. No matter how weird it makes me feel, I believe women speaking out about their experiences is necessary. Silence is no longer an option.  The time has come for women need to stand in solidarity with each other and kick the crap out of this rape culture invading our families, our lives, and our territories.  The issue isn't going to go away on its own.

Monday, December 23, 2013

2013… there have been better years

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There has been a lot of hurt in my heart for the year 2013. I’ve been trying to push through it and just do what I have to do… but when it doesn’t go away, what do you do with it? If I had the choice, I’d be living my life as simple as possible, which isn’t possible at all at the moment.

I definitely haven’t been bringing my A game this year. I’ve just been trying to survive. It is harder for me to concentrate when life keeps happening, especially when so much is expected of me.  Why did I choose law school again? Okay, I do know, but it’s harder to keep within the social justice mindset when I feel like everything is just too out of control. I don’t even know if I can make ends meet. I’m totally jealous of everyone I know with stability in their lives.

Maybe because I’m a cancer?  Cancers do great when they are loved and supported and have their emotional needs met.  When they aren’t, sometimes things go to chaos.  My biggest struggle this year was trying to not let it go to chaos. And it kind of did. But you know what? I tried.  I tried really hard. And I’m proud of myself for that.  There are times when I just wanted to let it all go.  But I didn’t. I make myself keep going. And I haven't completely lost it yet. (I hope).

There are so many people on my mind. Especially those that are going through really hard times.

I think about my brother in law every day. Christmas Eve will be the anniversary of when he lost his ability to move after a really bad car accident.  I just want to do something, anything, to make it better. I want to fix things, repair what might be unfixable. So that we can all feel like whole persons without that feeling that we are missing pieces of ourselves. I want the best for all of my family.

I like to think that life gives us hardships to teach us things.  Or at the very least, it is a constant learning process.  But while going through the times, sometimes it is hard to see the lesson.

My friend Noah died a few months ago. I haven’t talked about it publicly before this. I think about him every day, too.  I often imagine what kinds of comments he’d make about things. I remember when we used to sit and talk… I was surprised when he could read me, as not many people can. I see him everywhere, often in the faces of other people who look like him or stand the way he used to. Or I hear somebody laugh like him. He had good jokes, a lot of the time, to lighten the mood. 

I named my potted baby Christmas tree after him. I think he would appreciate that. I hope to plant it somewhere where nobody can cut it down and stick it in their living room. Another friend had the idea of planting a tree in the park in his name. Gosh, I miss you Noah.

So, I hope this isn’t going to be a trend on my blog – airing my emotions out. I didn’t intend for this to be my diary. I’m often private with my emotions and tend to avoid people when I’m not exactly a ray of sunshine. But sometimes you just gotta let it out, you know? Blog therapy.

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