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Justice for Rape Victims: Stanford rape victim and others speak out on Social Media

emilynghiem

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Everyone Should Read This Rape Survivor's Powerful Open Letter to the Stanford Sexual Assault Victim

Since the other thread on the Stanford rape case focused on what evidence/information had been established,
this thread is dedicated to rape victims' voices in standing up and speaking out for justice.

In too many cases, there aren't witnesses to provide proof that meets legal standards and gets public sympathy. In this case there is. So other rape victims who didn't have that support are using this opportunity to speak out and ride on that public sympathy and attention they couldn't get for their cases.

Let's hope this creates unity around prevention, instead of dividing men against women as "he said she said",
let's commit to preventing EITHER men or women from falling victim to any kind of abusive or criminal situation.

We all need to be like designated drivers, keeping people from getting into trouble in the first place, if they are too impaired or messed up. We need to be better friends and neighbors, and be better citizens like the two Swedish students on bikes who intervened, and not only saved this woman's life, but allowed her to speak out and call others to stand up as well. Had she been silenced, how many more crimes like this would go on.

My thanks, prayers and respect to everyone called to push for prevention so nobody has to suffer like this.
May the very best come out of this incident, so the suffering of victims is not in vain, but leads to justice.


Everyone Should Read This Rape Survivor's Powerful Open Letter to the Stanford Sexual Assault Victim

Rape Survivor Pens Letter to Stanford Sex Assault Victim: 'I Understand What You Are Going Through Because I Am Going Through it With You'

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You Need to Read This Sexual Assault Survivor's Open Letter to the Stanford Rape Victim


Survivor Delaney Henderson, who was assaulted when she was 16 by two boys at her California high school, penned a letter letting the Stanford survivor know that not only does she feel her pain, but there’s a whole group of people out there who feel it too.

“I am sorry that these feelings have intruded into your life, and I wish there was something I could say or do to take your pain away, but unfortunately I know nothing can change the way you feel or the way you have been hurt,” Delaney wrote. “I know this because on June 3, 2011, I was raped, taken advantage of, humiliated, and robbed of my self-worth and innocence. Two older, wealthier and more popular boys from my Catholic high school in California assaulted me in my own bedroom. The physical pain was bad enough, but the emotional toll I endured after the assault is what truly broke me.”

Delaney details the bullying and tormenting she endured after her rape, from people yelling “slut” at her, to a boy even writing a rap song threatening to kill her. The tormenting led to Delaney losing her identity, and eventually trying to kill herself.

“I am writing to tell you that I understand your pain. I understand how it feels to have someone you don’t even know overpower you, and use your body like it is worthless. I understand the confusion, and I know all too well what it is like to build a wall stopping anyone from being close to you. I know what it is like sitting in a doctor’s office, having strangers pry inside you with metal tools because I was so swollen and in so much pain for some time after my assault.

I know what it feels like to have a school and the justice system completely fail you. I felt like my attacker, like yours, only received a slap on the wrist for raping me. There was not enough justice for you when your attacker received such a lenient sentence. They took so much from us, and justice has not been served for the pain we continue to feel every day.”

"I am writing this to tell you that you are not alone," Delaney wrote. "I understand what you are going through because I am going through it with you. You are truly inspiring to me and to so many other survivors out there."

"I admire you for your relentless spirit and noble voice," she continued. "I hope you realize that you've given a sense of hope to every survivor out there, who has never thought they could win. You've already helped so many lives by using your powerful voice and standing as that beacon of light for all of us in the darkness."

What helped Delaney, she wrote, is finding a community in the organization Promoting Awareness, Victim Empowerment (PAVE). “During the midst of chaos, I received a call from Angela Rose. Angela founded PAVE — Promoting Awareness, Victim Empowerment — a non-profit organization for victims of sexual assault. That call changed my life,” she wrote. Through having that community, Delaney said she was able to get her voice back. From there, Delaney helped found SafeBAE, and organization run by survivors that aims to inform students of their Title IX rights.

In her own statement, the Stanford victim wrote that she’s remaining anonymous because she stands for every woman who has been raped. Delaney’s letter connects the Stanford survivor with some of the people she represents. Hopefully the Stanford victim hears this loud and clear."

http://www.teenvogue.com/story/stanford-rape-letter

Statement read in court by the rape victim who "had to fight for an entire year to make it clear that there was something wrong with this situation."
==============

Your Honor, if it is all right, for the majority of this statement I would like to address the defendant directly.

You don’t know me, but you’ve been inside me, and that’s why we’re here today.

On January 17th, 2015, it was a quiet Saturday night at home. My dad made some dinner and I sat at the table with my younger sister who was visiting for the weekend. I was working full time and it was approaching my bed time. I planned to stay at home by myself, watch some TV and read, while she went to a party with her friends. Then, I decided it was my only night with her, I had nothing better to do, so why not, there’s a dumb party ten minutes from my house, I would go, dance like a fool, and embarrass my younger sister. On the way there, I joked that undergrad guys would have braces. My sister teased me for wearing a beige cardigan to a frat party like a librarian. I called myself “big mama”, because I knew I’d be the oldest one there. I made silly faces, let my guard down, and drank liquor too fast not factoring in that my tolerance had significantly lowered since college.

The next thing I remember I was in a gurney in a hallway. I had dried blood and bandages on the backs of my hands and elbow. I thought maybe I had fallen and was in an admin office on campus. I was very calm and wondering where my sister was. A deputy explained I had been assaulted. I still remained calm, assured he was speaking to the wrong person. I knew no one at this party. When I was finally allowed to use the restroom, I pulled down the hospital pants they had given me, went to pull down my underwear, and felt nothing. I still remember the feeling of my hands touching my skin and grabbing nothing. I looked down and there was nothing. The thin piece of fabric, the only thing between my vagina and anything else, was missing and everything inside me was silenced. I still don’t have words for that feeling. In order to keep breathing, I thought maybe the policemen used scissors to cut them off for evidence.


Then, I felt pine needles scratching the back of my neck and started pulling them out my hair. I thought maybe, the pine needles had fallen from a tree onto my head. My brain was talking my gut into not collapsing. Because my gut was saying, help me, help me.

I shuffled from room to room with a blanket wrapped around me, pine needles trailing behind me, I left a little pile in every room I sat in. I was asked to sign papers that said “Rape Victim” and I thought something has really happened. My clothes were confiscated and I stood naked while the nurses held a ruler to various abrasions on my body and photographed them. The three of us worked to comb the pine needles out of my hair, six hands to fill one paper bag. To calm me down, they said it’s just the flora and fauna, flora and fauna. I had multiple swabs inserted into my vagina and anus, needles for shots, pills, had a Nikon pointed right into my spread legs. I had long, pointed beaks inside me and had my vagina smeared with cold, blue paint to check for abrasions.

After a few hours of this, they let me shower. I stood there examining my body beneath the stream of water and decided, I don’t want my body anymore. I was terrified of it, I didn’t know what had been in it, if it had been contaminated, who had touched it. I wanted to take off my body like a jacket and leave it at the hospital with everything else. On that morning, all that I was told was that I had been found behind a dumpster, potentially penetrated by a stranger, and that I should get retested for HIV because results don’t always show up immediately. But for now, I should go home and get back to my normal life. Imagine stepping back into the world with only that information. They gave me huge hugs and I walked out of the hospital into the parking lot wearing the new sweatshirt and sweatpants they provided me, as they had only allowed me to keep my necklace and shoes.

My sister picked me up, face wet from tears and contorted in anguish. Instinctively and immediately, I wanted to take away her pain. I smiled at her, I told her to look at me, I’m right here, I’m okay, everything’s okay, I’m right here. My hair is washed and clean, they gave me the strangest shampoo, calm down, and look at me. Look at these funny new sweatpants and sweatshirt, I look like a P.E. teacher, let’s go home, let’s eat something. She did not know that beneath my sweatsuit, I had scratches and bandages on my skin, my vagina was sore and had become a strange, dark color from all the prodding, my underwear was missing, and I felt too empty to continue to speak. That I was also afraid, that I was also devastated. That day we drove home and for hours in silence my younger sister held me.

My boyfriend did not know what happened, but called that day and said, “I was really worried about you last night, you scared me, did you make it home okay?” I was horrified. That’s when I learned I had called him that night in my blackout, left an incomprehensible voicemail, that we had also spoken on the phone, but I was slurring so heavily he was scared for me, that he repeatedly told me to go find [my sister]. Again, he asked me, “What happened last night? Did you make it home okay?” I said yes, and hung up to cry.

I was not ready to tell my boyfriend or parents that actually, I may have been raped behind a dumpster, but I don’t know by who or when or how. If I told them, I would see the fear on their faces, and mine would multiply by tenfold, so instead I pretended the whole thing wasn’t real.

I tried to push it out of my mind, but it was so heavy I didn’t talk, I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t interact with anyone. After work, I would drive to a secluded place to scream. I didn’t talk, I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t interact with anyone, and I became isolated from the ones I loved most. For over a week after the incident, I didn’t get any calls or updates about that night or what happened to me. The only symbol that proved that it hadn’t just been a bad dream, was the sweatshirt from the hospital in my drawer.

One day, I was at work, scrolling through the news on my phone, and came across an article. In it, I read and learned for the first time about how I was found unconscious, with my hair disheveled, long necklace wrapped around my neck, bra pulled out of my dress, dress pulled off over my shoulders and pulled up above my waist, that I was butt naked all the way down to my boots, legs spread apart, and had been penetrated by a foreign object by someone I did not recognize. This was how I learned what happened to me, sitting at my desk reading the news at work. I learned what happened to me the same time everyone else in the world learned what happened to me. That’s when the pine needles in my hair made sense, they didn’t fall from a tree. He had taken off my underwear, his fingers had been inside of me. I don’t even know this person. I still don’t know this person. When I read about me like this, I said, this can’t be me, this can’t be me. I could not digest or accept any of this information. I could not imagine my family having to read about this online. I kept reading. In the next paragraph, I read something that I will never forgive; I read that according to him, I liked it. I liked it. Again, I do not have words for these feelings.

It’s like if you were to read an article where a car was hit, and found dented, in a ditch. But maybe the car enjoyed being hit. Maybe the other car didn’t mean to hit it, just bump it up a little bit. Cars get in accidents all the time, people aren’t always paying attention, can we really say who’s at fault.

And then, at the bottom of the article, after I learned about the graphic details of my own sexual assault, the article listed his swimming times. She was found breathing, unresponsive with her underwear six inches away from her bare stomach curled in fetal position. By the way, he’s really good at swimming. Throw in my mile time if that’s what we’re doing. I’m good at cooking, put that in there, I think the end is where you list your extracurriculars to cancel out all the sickening things that’ve happened.

The night the news came out I sat my parents down and told them that I had been assaulted, to not look at the news because it’s upsetting, just know that I’m okay, I’m right here, and I’m okay. But halfway through telling them, my mom had to hold me because I could no longer stand up.

The night after it happened, he said he didn’t know my name, said he wouldn’t be able to identify my face in a lineup, didn’t mention any dialogue between us, no words, only dancing and kissing. Dancing is a cute term; was it snapping fingers and twirling dancing, or just bodies grinding up against each other in a crowded room? I wonder if kissing was just faces sloppily pressed up against each other? When the detective asked if he had planned on taking me back to his dorm, he said no. When the detective asked how we ended up behind the dumpster, he said he didn’t know. 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. Sometimes I think, if I hadn’t gone, then this never would’ve happened. But then I realized, it would have happened, just to somebody else. You were about to enter four years of access to drunk girls and parties, and if this is the foot you started off on, then it is right you did not continue. The night after it happened, he said he thought I liked it because I rubbed his back. A back rub.

Never mentioned me voicing consent, never mentioned us even speaking, a back rub. One more time, in public news, I learned that my ass and vagina were completely exposed outside, my breasts had been groped, fingers had been jabbed inside me along with pine needles and debris, my bare skin and head had been rubbing against the ground behind a dumpster, while an erect freshman was humping my half naked, unconscious body. But I don’t remember, so how do I prove I didn’t like it.


I thought there’s no way this is going to trial; there were witnesses, there was dirt in my body, he ran but was caught. He’s going to settle, formally apologize, and we will both move on. Instead, I was told he hired a powerful attorney, expert witnesses, private investigators who were going to try and find details about my personal life to use against me, find loopholes in my story to invalidate me and my sister, in order to show that this sexual assault was in fact a misunderstanding. That he was going to go to any length to convince the world he had simply been confused.

I was not only told that I was assaulted, I was told that because I couldn’t remember, I technically could not prove it was unwanted. And that distorted me, damaged me, almost broke me. It is the saddest type of confusion to be told I was assaulted and nearly raped, blatantly out in the open, but we don’t know if it counts as assault yet. I had to fight for an entire year to make it clear that there was something wrong with this situation.

When I was told to be prepared in case we didn’t win, I said, I can’t prepare for that. He was guilty the minute I woke up. No one can talk me out of the hurt he caused me. Worst of all, I was warned, because he now knows you don’t remember, he is going to get to write the script. He can say whatever he wants and no one can contest it. I had no power, I had no voice, I was defenseless. My memory loss would be used against me. My testimony was weak, was incomplete, and I was made to believe that perhaps, I am not enough to win this. His attorney constantly reminded the jury, the only one we can believe is Brock, because she doesn’t remember. That helplessness was traumatizing.

Instead of taking time to heal, I was taking time to recall the night in excruciating detail, in order to prepare for the attorney’s questions that would be invasive, aggressive, and designed to steer me off course, to contradict myself, my sister, phrased in ways to manipulate my answers. Instead of his attorney saying, Did you notice any abrasions? He said, You didn’t notice any abrasions, right? This was a game of strategy, as if I could be tricked out of my own worth. The sexual assault had been so clear, but instead, here I was at the trial, answering questions like:

How old are you? How much do you weigh? What did you eat that day? Well what did you have for dinner? Who made dinner? Did you drink with dinner? No, not even water? When did you drink? How much did you drink? What container did you drink out of? Who gave you the drink? How much do you usually drink? Who dropped you off at this party? At what time? But where exactly? What were you wearing? Why were you going to this party? What’ d you do when you got there? Are you sure you did that? But what time did you do that? What does this text mean? Who were you texting? When did you urinate? Where did you urinate? With whom did you urinate outside? Was your phone on silent when your sister called? Do you remember silencing it? Really because on page 53 I’d like to point out that you said it was set to ring. Did you drink in college? You said you were a party animal? How many times did you black out? Did you party at frats? Are you serious with your boyfriend? Are you sexually active with him? When did you start dating? Would you ever cheat? Do you have a history of cheating? What do you mean when you said you wanted to reward him? Do you remember what time you woke up? Were you wearing your cardigan? What color was your cardigan? Do you remember any more from that night? No? Okay, well, we’ll let Brock fill it in.

I was pummeled with narrowed, pointed questions that dissected my personal life, love life, past life, family life, inane questions, accumulating trivial details to try and find an excuse for this guy who had me half naked before even bothering to ask for my name. After a physical assault, I was assaulted with questions designed to attack me, to say see, her facts don’t line up, she’s out of her mind, she’s practically an alcoholic, she probably wanted to hook up, he’s like an athlete right, they were both drunk, whatever, the hospital stuff she remembers is after the fact, why take it into account, Brock has a lot at stake so he’s having a really hard time right now.

"I was pummeled with narrowed, pointed questions that dissected my personal life, love life, past life, family life, inane questions, accumulating trivial details to try and find an excuse for this guy who had me half naked before even bothering to ask for my name."

And then it came time for him to testify and I learned what it meant to be revictimized. I want to remind you, the night after it happened he said he never planned to take me back to his dorm. He said he didn’t know why we were behind a dumpster. He got up to leave because he wasn’t feeling well when he was suddenly chased and attacked. Then he learned I could not remember.

So one year later, as predicted, a new dialogue emerged. Brock had a strange new story, almost sounded like a poorly written young adult novel with kissing and dancing and hand holding and lovingly tumbling onto the ground, and most importantly in this new story, there was suddenly consent. One year after the incident, he remembered, oh yeah, by the way she actually said yes, to everything, so.

He said he had asked if I wanted to dance. Apparently I said yes. He’d asked if I wanted to go to his dorm, I said yes. Then he asked if he could finger me and I said yes. Most guys don’t ask, can I finger you? Usually there’s a natural progression of things, unfolding consensually, not a Q and A. But apparently I granted full permission. He’s in the clear. Even in his story, I only said a total of three words, yes yes yes, before he had me half naked on the ground. Future reference, if you are confused about whether a girl can consent, see if she can speak an entire sentence. You couldn’t even do that. Just one coherent string of words. Where was the confusion? This is common sense, human decency.

According to him, the only reason we were on the ground was because I fell down. Note; if a girl falls down help her get back up. If she is too drunk to even walk and falls down, do not mount her, hump her, take off her underwear, and insert your hand inside her vagina. If a girl falls down help her up. If she is wearing a cardigan over her dress don’t take it off so that you can touch her breasts. Maybe she is cold, maybe that’s why she wore the cardigan.

Next in the story, two Swedes on bicycles approached you and you ran. When they tackled you why didn’t say, “Stop! Everything’s okay, go ask her, she’s right over there, she’ll tell you.” I mean you had just asked for my consent, right? I was awake, right? When the policeman arrived and interviewed the evil Swede who tackled you, he was crying so hard he couldn’t speak because of what he’d seen.

Your attorney has repeatedly pointed out, well we don’t know exactly when she became unconscious. And you’re right, maybe I was still fluttering my eyes and wasn’t completely limp yet. That was never the point. I was too drunk to speak English, too drunk to consent way before I was on the ground. I should have never been touched in the first place. Brock stated, “At no time did I see that she was not responding. If at any time I thought she was not responding, I would have stopped immediately.” Here’s the thing; if your plan was to stop only when I became unresponsive, then you still do not understand. You didn’t even stop when I was unconscious anyway! Someone else stopped you. Two guys on bikes noticed I wasn’t moving in the dark and had to tackle you. How did you not notice while on top of me?

You said, you would have stopped and gotten help. You say that, but I want you to explain how you would’ve helped me, step by step, walk me through this. I want to know, if those evil Swedes had not found me, how the night would have played out. I am asking you; Would you have pulled my underwear back on over my boots? Untangled the necklace wrapped around my neck? Closed my legs, covered me? Pick the pine needles from my hair? Asked if the abrasions on my neck and bottom hurt? Would you then go find a friend and say, Will you help me get her somewhere warm and soft? I don’t sleep when I think about the way it could have gone if the two guys had never come. What would have happened to me? That’s what you’ll never have a good answer for, that’s what you can’t explain even after a year.

On top of all this, he claimed that I orgasmed after one minute of digital penetration. The nurse said there had been abrasions, lacerations, and dirt in my genitalia. Was that before of after I came?

To sit under oath and inform all of us, that yes I wanted it, yes I permitted it, and that you are the true victim attacked by Swedes for reasons unknown to you is appalling, is demented, is selfish, is damaging. It is enough to be suffering. It is another thing to have someone ruthlessly working to diminish the gravity of validity of this suffering.

My family had to see pictures of my head strapped to a gurney full of pine needles, of my body in the dirt with my eyes closed, hair messed up, limbs bent, and dress hiked up. And even after that, my family had to listen to your attorney say the pictures were after the fact, we can dismiss them. To say, yes her nurse confirmed there was redness and abrasions inside her, significant trauma to her genitalia, but that’s what happens when you finger someone, and he’s already admitted to that. To listen to your attorney attempt to paint a picture of me, the face of girls gone wild, as if somehow that would make it so that I had this coming for me. To listen to him say I sounded drunk on the phone because I’m silly and that’s my goofy way of speaking. To point out that in the voicemail, I said I would reward my boyfriend and we all know what I was thinking. I assure you my rewards program is non transferable, especially to any nameless man that approaches me.

He has done irreversible damage to me and my family during the trial and we have sat silently, listening to him shape the evening. But in the end, his unsupported statements and his attorney’s twisted logic fooled no one. The truth won, the truth spoke for itself.

You are guilty. Twelve jurors convicted you guilty of three felony counts beyond reasonable doubt, that’s twelve votes per count, thirty six yeses confirming guilt, that’s one hundred percent, unanimous guilt. And I thought finally it is over, finally he will own up to what he did, truly apologize, we will both move on and get better. Then I read your statement.

If you are hoping that one of my organs will implode from anger and I will die, I’m almost there. You are very close. This is not a story of another drunk college hookup with poor decision making. Assault is not an accident. Somehow, you still don’t get it. Somehow, you still sound confused. I will now read portions of the defendant’s statement and respond to them. You said, Being drunk I just couldn’t make the best decisions and neither could she.

Alcohol is not an excuse. Is it a factor? Yes. But alcohol was not the one who stripped me, fingered me, had my head dragging against the ground, with me almost fully naked. Having too much to drink was an amateur mistake that I admit to, but it is not criminal. Everyone in this room has had a night where they have regretted drinking too much, or knows someone close to them who has had a night where they have regretted drinking too much. Regretting drinking is not the same as regretting sexual assault. We were both drunk, the difference is I did not take off your pants and underwear, touch you inappropriately, and run away. That’s the difference.

You said, If I wanted to get to know her, I should have asked for her number, rather than asking her to go back to my room. I’m not mad because you didn’t ask for my number. Even if you did know me, I would not want be in this situation. My own boyfriend knows me, but if he asked to finger me behind a dumpster, I would slap him. No girl wants to be in this situation. Nobody. I don’t care if you know their phone number or not.

You said, I stupidly thought it was okay for me to do what everyone around me was doing, which was drinking. I was wrong. Again, you were not wrong for drinking. Everyone around you was not sexually assaulting me. You were wrong for doing what nobody else was doing, which was pushing your erect dick in your pants against my naked, defenseless body concealed in a dark area, where partygoers could no longer see or protect me, and my own sister could not find me. Sipping fireball is not your crime. Peeling off and discarding my underwear like a candy wrapper to insert your finger into my body, is where you went wrong. Why am I still explaining this.

You said, During the trial I didn’t want to victimize her at all. That was just my attorney and his way of approaching the case. Your attorney is not your scapegoat, he represents you. Did your attorney say some incredulously infuriating, degrading things? Absolutely. He said you had an erection, because it was cold.

You said, you are in the process of establishing a program for high school and college students in which you speak about your experience to “speak out against the college campus drinking culture and the sexual promiscuity that goes along with that.” Campus drinking culture. That’s what we’re speaking out against? You think that’s what I’ve spent the past year fighting for? Not awareness about campus sexual assault, or rape, or learning to recognize consent. Campus drinking culture. Down with Jack Daniels. Down with Skyy Vodka. If you want talk to people about drinking go to an AA meeting. You realize, having a drinking problem is different than drinking and then forcefully trying to have sex with someone? Show men how to respect women, not how to drink less.

Drinking culture and the sexual promiscuity that goes along with that. Goes along with that, like a side effect, like fries on the side of your order. Where does promiscuity even come into play? I don’t see headlines that read, Brock Turner, Guilty of drinking too much and the sexual promiscuity that goes along with that. Campus Sexaul Assault. There’s your first powerpoint slide. Rest assured, if you fail to fix the topic of your talk, I will follow you to every school you go to and give a follow up presentation. Lastly you said, I want to show people that one night of drinking can ruin a life.

A life, one life, yours, you forgot about mine. Let me rephrase for you, I want to show people that one night of drinking can ruin two lives. You and me. You are the cause, I am the effect. You have dragged me through this hell with you, dipped me back into that night again and again. You knocked down both our towers, I collapsed at the same time you did. If you think I was spared, came out unscathed, that today I ride off into sunset, while you suffer the greatest blow, you are mistaken. Nobody wins. We have all been devastated, we have all been trying to find some meaning in all of this suffering. Your damage was concrete; stripped of titles, degrees, enrollment. My damage was internal, unseen, I carry it with me. You took away my worth, my privacy, my energy, my time, my safety, my intimacy, my confidence, my own voice, until today.

See one thing we have in common is that we were both unable to get up in the morning. I am no stranger to suffering. You made me a victim. In newspapers my name was “unconscious intoxicated woman”, ten syllables, and nothing more than that. For a while, I believed that that was all I was. I had to force myself to relearn my real name, my identity. To relearn that this is not all that I am. That I am not just a drunk victim at a frat party found behind a dumpster, while you are the All American swimmer at a top university, innocent until proven guilty, with so much at stake. I am a human being who has been irreversibly hurt, my life was put on hold for over a year, waiting to figure out if I was worth something.

My independence, natural joy, gentleness, and steady lifestyle I had been enjoying became distorted beyond recognition. I became closed off, angry, self deprecating, tired, irritable, empty. The isolation at times was unbearable. You cannot give me back the life I had before that night either. While you worry about your shattered reputation, I refrigerated spoons every night so when I woke up, and my eyes were puffy from crying, I would hold the spoons to my eyes to lessen the swelling so that I could see. I showed up an hour late to work every morning, excused myself to cry in the stairwells, I can tell you all the best places in that building to cry where no one can hear you. The pain became so bad that I had to explain the private details to my boss to let her know why I was leaving. I needed time because continuing day to day was not possible. I used my savings to go as far away as I could possibly be. I did not return to work full time as I knew I’d have to take weeks off in the future for the hearing and trial, that were constantly being rescheduled. My life was put on hold for over a year, my structure had collapsed.

I can’t sleep alone at night without having a light on, like a five year old, because I have nightmares of being touched where I cannot wake up, I did this thing where I waited until the sun came up and I felt safe enough to sleep. For three months, I went to bed at six o’clock in the morning.

I used to pride myself on my independence, now I am afraid to go on walks in the evening, to attend social events with drinking among friends where I should be comfortable being. I have become a little barnacle always needing to be at someone’s side, to have my boyfriend standing next to me, sleeping beside me, protecting me. It is embarrassing how feeble I feel, how timidly I move through life, always guarded, ready to defend myself, ready to be angry.

You have no idea how hard I have worked to rebuild parts of me that are still weak. It took me eight months to even talk about what happened. I could no longer connect with friends, with everyone around me. I would scream at my boyfriend, my own family whenever they brought this up. You never let me forget what happened to me. At the of end of the hearing, the trial, I was too tired to speak. I would leave drained, silent. I would go home turn off my phone and for days I would not speak. You bought me a ticket to a planet where I lived by myself. Every time a new article come out, I lived with the paranoia that my entire hometown would find out and know me as the girl who got assaulted. I didn’t want anyone’s pity and am still learning to accept victim as part of my identity. You made my own hometown an uncomfortable place to be.

You cannot give me back my sleepless nights. The way I have broken down sobbing uncontrollably if I’m watching a movie and a woman is harmed, to say it lightly, this experience has expanded my empathy for other victims. I have lost weight from stress, when people would comment I told them I’ve been running a lot lately. There are times I did not want to be touched. I have to relearn that I am not fragile, I am capable, I am wholesome, not just livid and weak.

When I see my younger sister hurting, when she is unable to keep up in school, when she is deprived of joy, when she is not sleeping, when she is crying so hard on the phone she is barely breathing, telling me over and over again she is sorry for leaving me alone that night, sorry sorry sorry, when she feels more guilt than you, then I do not forgive you. That night I had called her to try and find her, but you found me first. Your attorney’s closing statement began, “[Her sister] said she was fine and who knows her better than her sister.” You tried to use my own sister against me? Your points of attack were so weak, so low, it was almost embarrassing. You do not touch her.

You should have never done this to me. Secondly, you should have never made me fight so long to tell you, you should have never done this to me. But here we are. The damage is done, no one can undo it. And now we both have a choice. We can let this destroy us, I can remain angry and hurt and you can be in denial, or we can face it head on, I accept the pain, you accept the punishment, and we move on.

Your life is not over, you have decades of years ahead to rewrite your story. The world is huge, it is so much bigger than Palo Alto and Stanford, and you will make a space for yourself in it where you can be useful and happy. But right now, you do not get to shrug your shoulders and be confused anymore. You do not get to pretend that there were no red flags. You have been convicted of violating me, intentionally, forcibly, sexually, with malicious intent, and all you can admit to is consuming alcohol. Do not talk about the sad way your life was upturned because alcohol made you do bad things. Figure out how to take responsibility for your own conduct.

Now to address the sentencing.When I read the probation officer’s report, I was in disbelief, consumed by anger which eventually quieted down to profound sadness. My statements have been slimmed down to distortion and taken out of context. I fought hard during this trial and will not have the outcome minimized by a probation officer who attempted to evaluate my current state and my wishes in a fifteen minute conversation, the majority of which was spent answering questions I had about the legal system. The context is also important. Brock had yet to issue a statement, and I had not read his remarks.

My life has been on hold for over a year, a year of anger, anguish and uncertainty, until a jury of my peers rendered a judgment that validated the injustices I had endured. Had Brock admitted guilt and remorse and offered to settle early on, I would have considered a lighter sentence, respecting his honesty, grateful to be able to move our lives forward. Instead he took the risk of going to trial, added insult to injury and forced me to relive the hurt as details about my personal life and sexual assault were brutally dissected before the public. He pushed me and my family through a year of inexplicable, unnecessary suffering, and should face the consequences of challenging his crime, of putting my pain into question, of making us wait so long for justice. I told the probation officer I do not want Brock to rot away in prison. I did not say he does not deserve to be behind bars. The probation officer’s recommendation of a year or less in county jail is a soft timeout, a mockery of the seriousness of his assaults, an insult to me and all women. It gives the message that a stranger can be inside you without proper consent and he will receive less than what has been defined as the minimum sentence. Probation should be denied. I also told the probation officer that what I truly wanted was for Brock to get it, to understand and admit to his wrongdoing.

Unfortunately, after reading the defendant’s report, I am severely disappointed and feel that he has failed to exhibit sincere remorse or responsibility for his conduct. I fully respected his right to a trial, but even after twelve jurors unanimously convicted him guilty of three felonies, all he has admitted to doing is ingesting alcohol. Someone who cannot take full accountability for his actions does not deserve a mitigating sentence. It is deeply offensive that he would try and dilute rape with a suggestion of “promiscuity”. By definition rape is the absence of promiscuity, rape is the absence of consent, and it perturbs me deeply that he can’t even see that distinction.

The probation officer factored in that the defendant is youthful and has no prior convictions. In my opinion, he is old enough to know what he did was wrong. When you are eighteen in this country you can go to war. When you are nineteen, you are old enough to pay the consequences for attempting to rape someone. He is young, but he is old enough to know better. As this is a first offence I can see where leniency would beckon. On the other hand, as a society, we cannot forgive everyone’s first sexual assault or digital rape. It doesn’t make sense. The seriousness of rape has to be communicated clearly, we should not create a culture that suggests we learn that rape is wrong through trial and error. The consequences of sexual assault needs to be severe enough that people feel enough fear to exercise good judgment even if they are drunk, severe enough to be preventative.

The probation officer weighed the fact that he has surrendered a hard earned swimming scholarship. How fast Brock swims does not lessen the severity of what happened to me, and should not lessen the severity of his punishment. If a first time offender from an underprivileged background was accused of three felonies and displayed no accountability for his actions other than drinking, what would his sentence be? The fact that Brock was an athlete at a private university should not be seen as an entitlement to leniency, but as an opportunity to send a message that sexual assault is against the law regardless of social class. The Probation Officer has stated that this case, when compared to other crimes of similar nature, may be considered less serious due to the defendant’s level of intoxication. It felt serious. That’s all I’m going to say.

What has he done to demonstrate that he deserves a break? He has only apologized for drinking and has yet to define what he did to me as sexual assault, he has revictimized me continually, relentlessly. He has been found guilty of three serious felonies and it is time for him to accept the consequences of his actions. He will not be quietly excused.

He is a lifetime sex registrant. That doesn’t expire. Just like what he did to me doesn’t expire, doesn’t just go away after a set number of years. It stays with me, it’s part of my identity, it has forever changed the way I carry myself, the way I live the rest of my life.

To conclude, I want to say thank you. To everyone from the intern who made me oatmeal when I woke up at the hospital that morning, to the deputy who waited beside me, to the nurses who calmed me, to the detective who listened to me and never judged me, to my advocates who stood unwaveringly beside me, to my therapist who taught me to find courage in vulnerability, to my boss for being kind and understanding, to my incredible parents who teach me how to turn pain into strength, to my grandma who snuck chocolate into the courtroom throughout this to give to me, my friends who remind me how to be happy, to my boyfriend who is patient and loving, to my unconquerable sister who is the other half of my heart, to Alaleh, my idol, who fought tirelessly and never doubted me. Thank you to everyone involved in the trial for their time and attention. Thank you to girls across the nation that wrote cards to my DA to give to me, so many strangers who cared for me.

Most importantly, thank you to the two men who saved me, who I have yet to meet. I sleep with two bicycles that I drew taped above my bed to remind myself there are heroes in this story. That we are looking out for one another. To have known all of these people, to have felt their protection and love, is something I will never forget.

And finally, to girls everywhere, I am with you. On nights when you feel alone, I am with you. When people doubt you or dismiss you, I am with you. I fought everyday for you. So never stop fighting, I believe you. As the author Anne Lamott once wrote, “Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.” Although I can’t save every boat, I hope that by speaking today, you absorbed a small amount of light, a small knowing that you can’t be silenced, a small satisfaction that justice was served, a small assurance that we are getting somewhere, and a big, big knowing that you are important, unquestionably, you are untouchable, you are beautiful, you are to be valued, respected, undeniably, every minute of every day, you are powerful and nobody can take that away from you. To girls everywhere, I am with you. Thank you.


Related: We Are Survivors of Sexual Assault, and These Are Our Stories
 
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emilynghiem

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Don't Blame Victims for the Crime
(draft in progress)

How dare you blame me
After you rape me


How dare you blame me, for things beyond my control
How dare you make up lies
That I consented. I clearly was passed out cold
The laws are on your side

Don't point at me as if I'm guilty
I'm not on trial, I'm lucky I'm alive
Cuz this almost killed me

Why am I judged by society?
While you deny what you did to me?
If I'm not crazy, I'd lose my mind
Listening to headlines:
Blaming victims for the crime

Is Justice only, for sale to the highest bid?
Is every Jury biased?
By what I'm wearing
When nothing that I said or did
Could ever justify this?

Laws were not intended to be
Used to frame us, as objects of violence
Shamed in silence

Why is due process denied to me?
While you get off with lunacy?
I cry my eyes out all day and night
Can't read the headlines
Don't blame victims for the crime!


 

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Holy shit that was a wall of text.
 
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emilynghiem

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Holy shit that was a wall of text.

Yes I kept the exact statement to the Court in full. Theowl32
This statement went viral worldwide, this isn't a simple problem and doesn't deserve to be censored for "convenience" when people need to know and hear from the rape victims who don't kill themselves to unload.

If people don't want to deal with the FULL impact that rape has on
someone's life, mind, relationships and whole reality,
then we should not let rape happen in the first place.

Who is paying the costs of rape?
If we can't even read a single statement, when this woman lives this in her mind
every day, then we can't afford rape to happen anywhere in our society.

Shame on us for letting this go on and not wanting to hear or read the FULL story.
This isn't the half of it. So if we can't handle this, what are we doing to rape victims?
What are we doing for them? So they can handle what they have to live with every day?
 

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This is the older woman that went to a frat party and drank herself to blackout. She will never heal until she recognizes the part she played in her own victimization. She knows it's there.

Underneath all her lamentations is the nacent idea that the boy should have been a gentleman. He should have realized that she was vulnerable and protected her.

Silly girl, we beat that out of men decades ago.
 
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emilynghiem

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This is the older woman that went to a frat party and drank herself to blackout. She will never heal until she recognizes the part she played in her own victimization. She knows it's there.

Underneath all her lamentations is the nacent idea that the boy should have been a gentleman. He should have realized that she was vulnerable and protected her.

Silly girl, we beat that out of men decades ago.

Dear Tipsycatlover
Yes and no. I agree we cannot recover while framing ourselves as the victim of "someone else's actions"
but accounts will show that people who see themselves as HEROES "despite" the injustice of others
DO heal and recover faster. But that does NOT mean taking the blame off the offender either.

In order to heal BOTH PEOPLE have to forgive and clear the ill will between them.
It's MUTUAL in this case, because the legal system got involved and started taking sides. The media
too. And public eyes and perception got involved.

All that has interfered and tipped the scales this way and that way.
So now ALL THAT has to be healed as well.

Each person, like you and me, cannot just walk away saying oh, just THAT person "needs to change their attitude" and then this will be resolved.

No. Now YOU are involved and the same applies to YOU. And to ME.
We'd all have to be equally forgiving and accepting of both the man and the woman in this case,
to be "perfectly fair" as God's truth justice and love is for all humanity.

Then we can be healed. We are part of that process, too.
So neither can you nor I nor anyone else "observing" this case from "outside"
think we can heal either, by "pointing the blame" at "her or him".
We have our own homework to do, inside and out, if we are going to change this whole cycle of abuse.

Legal abuse included. And media abuse to bully. There are more layers added on top
of the original abuse. The young man blames the alcohol and culture at these schools that
enable people to get set up to fail. I agree with that, too. But yes it's more and I agree with the
young woman we can't just stop there.

I would also address the rape and lack of restorative justice and restitution as choices how to make amends and peace afterwards so that victims on all sides can find healing regardless of who they blame more. Sure we have our biases. We don't have to agree perfectly, in order to SHARE that blame together. Just not this fight over one person "instead of" the other, how about "all of the above."

If our legal system only offers judgment and punishment, no wonder people run from the law
instead of face justice and take responsibility. We only reward hiding and taking the Fifth,
and we'd punish anyone who tries to be honest and take the First!

Tipsycatlover I know a criminal justice lawyer and counselor who takes the position closer to yours.

He actually teaches that spiritually both people have their own "karma" that leads up to the rape.
I think you would understand what he is saying, but most people don't.
It sounds like blaming the victim for the rape, and enabling criminals to get away with abuse
because the victims have bad karma and somehow deserve this, and need it to motivate them to change.

Yes and no. It does happen, and people have overcome gross injustice and victimhood
in order to become "stronger for what didn't kill them" but STILL THE CRIME NEEDS TO STOP.

THERE ARE BETTER WAYS THAN RAPE to help people "overcome their weaknesses and fears"
and help them to grow to be a stronger person. We don't need to rape and abuse people to grow up!
That's like abusing a child, to make sure they grow up tough. No, there are right ways and wrong ways to do that. The point of bad karma is not to repeat or abuse it, but learn to recognize and overcome it without abuse.

So I have argued with my friend that I understand what he is saying, but that can too easily be abused to justify abusing people who are vulnerable, even "setting themselves up" to be abused. Lots of women have family backgrounds that set them up as victims of abuse, enablers even, but that doesn't justify abusing them.

So I told my friend there is also "collective karma" -- society's karma and karma that humanity has as a whole.

In cases like this, I'd say it is ALL our karma that this woman got targeted for abuse and rape.
All of us have allowed this 'culture' to go on, and none of us "did enough to stop it" or it wouldn't have happened to this woman. Like she told her sister: if not her, someone else would have been the victim.
She does get it, Tipsycatlover

What she is saying is the legal system still is biased toward favoring the offender
because "there was no proof" she could provide. Even if she HAD BEEN conscious and contested his story, it's still his word over hers, and without proof the law/lawyers are going to push for innocence until proven guilty. So she gets screwed again. And then the media jumps on board and everyone stones the woman!
We want justice so badly, we are willing to enforce "whatever narrative" in our mind "makes us feel safe."
And the "path of least resistance" is to say to ourselves: "there must be something that woman did that I would not have done, that explains why this happened to HER but wouldn't happen to ME." And that's why it feels better to just blame the easiest target, the clothes, the drinking, whatever we can tell ourselves "we wouldn't have done, so nobody can do this to us" . It's a way of making ourselves feel better, more secure.

What would make me feel more secure is knowing this legal abuse will stop.
That people will have a choice not to play those games, at anyone's expense.
People deserve a choice to address and correct problems, not be rewarded for hiding them.
We don't give people that choice, then you wonder why our courts and govt are such a mess.

Sorry for the long msg.

On top of the alcohol abuse, relationship abuse and rape, there is legal abuse that merely COMPOUNDS the injuries with additional PTSD and victimhood issues that can drive people insane if they aren't already there.

That happens to be one of my big issues. And I consider it collective karma because it's so big!
There's not a single person who hasn't been affected, because it's filling up our prisons and costing taxpayers billions that we could be using for health care instead of paying to keep or make people sicker.

The solution I found is spiritual healing that can be used to detect, treat and even cure criminal illnesses, addiction and abuse. The sooner the intervention, the better the chances of recovery.

Somehow we need to get THERE from HERE.

I hope both people in this case get the support they need to make that happen.
We all need to heal from this, not just those two people that this case pushed into the media.

There's a lot more we can do by working together, and maybe Stanford will help.
Thanks Tipsycatlover, I GET what you are saying but the problem is BIGGER than that.
NO SIDETAKING or it makes it worse. If we take your statement and EVERYONE adopts and admits
that, then we're making progress. Or else it's just pushing the blame on whoever's most convenient.

And that's not helping us, it's doing the SAME THING you are saying this woman is doing wrong.
So we have to do it differently. Thank you for enforcing that point.
 
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I do not believe in restorative justice that holds that both parties need to heal. The concept is garbage.

This woman can never rise above her rape because she will not accept the part she played.

It could have been worse. She could have drank herself to blackout and when she was passed out, her little sister was raped. The little sister this older woman should have kept it together enough to protect. At least that's one good thing.
 

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I think both involved were pieces of shit him for raping her and her for being a fall down blackout drunk moron.
 
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I do not believe in restorative justice that holds that both parties need to heal. The concept is garbage.

This woman can never rise above her rape because she will not accept the part she played.

It could have been worse. She could have drank herself to blackout and when she was passed out, her little sister was raped. The little sister this older woman should have kept it together enough to protect. At least that's one good thing.

Honey, EVERYONE I KNOW needs to heal. And that can be done by Restorative Justice.

If entire villages in AFRICA can heal of group GENOCIDES of one tribe slaughtering each other.

If they can join together and work side by side, then so can anyone else dealing with a fraction of the problems that African tribes and villages have to face and overcome.

Maybe we're spoiled. We think we can live without resolving things.

Well, that's why cycles and patterns continue and repeat.

If we don't find and resolve the CAUSES enough to HEAL, can we be shocked when things don't change and the same problems keep recurring?

So Tipsycatlover, as long as we can 'afford' to spend 50K a year per person rotating them through a failed justice and prison system; as long as we can bump the trillions in debts "down the road' and expect the NEXT generation to figure it out, it's okay to keep looking the other way and say we can't change it anyway? Really?

Sorry Tipsycatlover but the solutions are already out there. People have been treated and cured of criminal illness, addiction, abuse etc. so there is NO REASON to act like there is no way to find out and cure the problems in advance.

We can stop this and can bring healing to more and more people.

It's not like we are hopeless and helpless. The solutions are out there, we're just too busy playing politics with the problems to do the work to invest in solutions instead.

TCL it's like being so in debt from paying INTEREST on the debt we're not even getting to the principal!
 
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^ Oh yeah Tipsycatlover that's the spirit!
^ Remind me to dub that into the background vocals ^
Uh huh, Eh yeah. Oh baby baby....
===============================
Revised Lyrics Draft 2-3 (still in progress):
Don't Blame Victims for the Crime

[How dare you blame me
After you rape me]

How dare you blame me
For things beyond my control
How dare you make up lies
That I consented
I clearly was passed out cold
I'm not the one on trial. Don't
Point your filthy little guilty
Fingers at me. I'm lucky I'm alive when
This almost killed me

Why am I judged by society?
While you deny what you did to me?
If I'm not crazy I'd lose my mind
Reading through head - lines
Blaming victims for the crime

Does Justice only
Get sold to the highest bid?
Is every Jury biased?
By what I'm wearing when
Nothing that I said or did
Could ever justify this

Laws were not intended to be
Used to frame and target me for violence
Shamed into silence

Why is due process denied to me?
While you get off with insanity?
Have we gone crazy and lost our minds
Believing the head - lines
Don't blame victims for the crime!

[How dare you blame us
After they raped us]

My baby sister,
She takes this upon herself.
I told her maybe
It would've been someone else...

Who cries in the dark
Her life torn apart
While dangerous killers walk free
Till we cure the real disease
Abuse can be healed
Prevented in time
Till then who's paying for the crime?


We won't put up with society
Condemning us for this lunacy
So spread the message, tell all your friends
Everyone online:
Don't blame victims for the crime!

Let Justice prevail
It isn't for sale
Like criminals pimping the courts
While trafficked victims sit in jail.
The cycle can break
By freeing our minds:
Don't blame victims for crime!


We won't be judged by society
While crooks get off with insanity
Sign our petition and get online
We'll make the headlines:
Stop blaming victims for the crime!
 
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She was passed out cold voluntarily. If she does not accept her part in this, she will never be able to put it behind her

My goodness she had her younger sister with her. She should have been watching out for her.

Instead this idiot hands her safety over to a drunk frat boy.
 
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emilynghiem

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She was passed out cold voluntarily. If she does not accept her part in this, she will never be able to put it behind her

My goodness she had her younger sister with her. She should have been watching out for her.

Instead this idiot hands her safety over to a drunk frat boy.

Sure but I'm not going to focus on one thing
and use that as an excuse to hang the girl on a rope.

This is what I mean Tipsycatlover by trying to find
the simplest short cut to putting the blame on someone else.

Collectively I see this as all society's problems.
They continue until innocent people get hurt before people get "disturbed."

As long as YOU see her as not innocent, then you can justify "not being disturbed
enough to take any action." so it helps YOU feel better,
your perception is about YOU not really about her.

What you see and say about this is really a reflection on YOU.

I see both people as having their lives changed beyond anything they were prepared for.

Again, I know the solution is spiritual healing which you don't believe in or think will ever work or make enough difference.

So that's why you and I don't approach this the same way.

I know there is a solution, but you keep wanting to deny that.

So people like you have to keep "blaming the problem on something"
instead of focusing on fixing the real root cause.

It's all distraction from the real issue, Tipsycatlover

This whole thing could be prevented if ALL abuse, addiction
and sickness were detected and addressed in advance.

We can point to that problem and that solution,
without taking sides with either the young man or young woman in this situation.

Trying to "blame it on her" is not going to help but make it worse.

That only works in a context of blaming everyone equally,
then it's okay to blame her as long as you agree to share the blame.

Otherwise it's fingerpointing and projection for convenience.
 
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emilynghiem

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She was passed out cold voluntarily. If she does not accept her part in this, she will never be able to put it behind her

My goodness she had her younger sister with her. She should have been watching out for her.

Instead this idiot hands her safety over to a drunk frat boy.

Okay Tipsycatlover now I get it.
You didn't even read the statements by the woman including about her sister.

In her words, you would see she is probably way farther along in the healing process, while you are still addressing this as if she's on page one and responding out of trauma.

She couldn't even testify in court and make such a statement if she hadn't spent over a year working through this. All the issues you bring up, she sounds like she already got past in order to move forward and deal with the legal and court process.

She already made statements that she wanted to see the young man GET HELP. So this is about addressing and fixing the root problem. Unfortunately it looks like the lawyer/judge took advantage of her NOT demanding harsh punishment, and went to the other extreme.

As for her sister, all that's already been said: She said it was hard for her to see her sister's face blaming herself for getting separated where she couldn't protect her older sister.

But what she said in response, it would have been another student getting assaulted instead.

All this shows more insight and resolution than just a person "playing the victim card" as you seem to assume about this person.

From your criticisms about what is needed for healing Tipsycatlover, that is the SAME as Restorative Justice, we are talking about the same thing, but from two different places in time.

You seem to be at the first step, still assessing how much could the woman and her sister have done differently on their side.

They both are already WAY past that in order to be able to testify and deal with the trial and courts and aftermath.

I think we're talking about the same process,
but just different stages in it. Even what you said is about how healing works, and that IS part of Restorative Justice.

Thanks TCL!
 
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Revised Lyrics Draft 4-5 (almost finished):
Don't Blame Victims for the Crime

[How dare you blame me
After you rape me]

How dare you blame me
For things beyond my control
How dare you make up lies
That I consented
I clearly was passed out cold
I'm not the one on trial. Don't
Point your filthy little guilty
Fingers at me. I'm lucky I'm alive
This almost killed me

Why am I judged by society?
While you deny what you did to me?
If I'm not crazy I'd lose my mind
Reading through headlines
Blaming victims for the crime

Will Justice only
Get sold to the highest bid?
Is every Jury biased?
By what I'm wearing when
Nothing that I said or did
Could ever justify this

Laws were not intended to be
Used to bully
And silence every witness
To this sickness

Why is due process denied to me?
While you get off with insanity?
Have we gone crazy and lost our minds
Believing the headlines
Don't blame victims for the crime!

[How dare you blame us
And not the rapists]

My baby sister,
She takes this upon herself.
I told her maybe
It would have been someone else...

Who cries in the dark
Her life torn apart
While dangerous killers walk free
Till we cure the real disease
Abuse can be healed
Prevented in time
Till then who's paying for the crime?


We won't be judged by society
Condemning us for this lunacy
Sign our petition, tell all your friends
Everyone online:
Don't blame victims for the crime!

Let Justice prevail
It isn't for sale
Like criminals courts, where drug lords
Traffic women through the jails.
Our hearts can be healed
By freeing our minds (one at a time)
Don't blame victims for crime!


We can change society
We can stop this insanity
So spread the message, and share online
Change every headline:
Don't blame victims for the crime!

 
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emilynghiem

emilynghiem

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FINAL Lyrics (reposted for Amanda Nguyen and RISE
who won the landmark victory to pass a Bill of Rights
through Congress protecting Rape Victims, by reforming
procedural flaws causing further injustice and trauma):

Don't Blame Victims for the Crime

[How dare you blame me
After you rape me]

How dare you blame me
For things beyond my control
How dare you make up lies
That I consented
I clearly was passed out cold
I'm not the one on trial. Don't
Point your filthy little guilty
Fingers at me. I'm lucky I'm alive
This almost killed me

Why am I judged by society?
While you deny what you did to me?
If I'm not crazy I'd lose my mind
Reading the headlines:
Blaming victims for the crime!

Will Lady Justice
Get sold to the highest bid?
Is every Jury biased?
By what I'm wearing when
NOTHING that I said or did
Could ever justify this!

Laws were not intended to be
Used to SHAME
And silence every witness
To this sickness!

Why is due process denied to me?
While you get off with LUNACY?
Have we gone crazy and lost our minds
Believing the headlines?
Don't blame victims for the crime!

[How dare you blame us
And not the rapists]

My baby sister,
She takes this upon herself.
I told her maybe
It would have been someone else...

Who cries in the dark
Her life torn apart
While dangerous killers walk free
Till we cure the real disease
Abuse can be healed
Prevented in time
Till then who's paying for the crime?


We won't put up with society
Condemning us, while crooks go free!
Sign our petition, tell all your friends
Everyone online: STOP
Blaming victims for the crime!

Let Justice prevail
It isn't for sale
Like criminals courts, where drug lords
Traffic women through the jails.
The cycle can break
When we make up our minds:
Don't blame victims for crime!


STOP - RAPE - NOW

[/QUOTE]

Lyrics inspired by the two sisters at Stanford who brought this issue to worldwide
attention, and dedicated to RISE and the outreach work by Amanda Nguyen:
Who We Are
Urge Congress to Support Rape Survivor Rights!
Want to help more? Visit our forum!

Anyone who wants to help these brave women in their causes to end the rape culture,
this song tribute is for creative use to help stop victimization of rape, revenge porn, trafficking and
sexual extortion and bullying (online and IRL) that have even led to suicides of rape
and bullying victims, such as Amanda Todd, Rehtaeh Parsons and others.

I also want to commend Jada in Houston for her courage in standing up for herself
against online bullying after rape; and thank the online warriors who fought to expose
coverups of rapes of a 14-year-old in Maryville and 16-year-old in Steubenville.

As for Brock Turner, Oscar Pistorius and others with potential to reach
out to fellow offenders to end sexual violence and rape, I also pray that
all schools and universities join together to invest in medical R&D
into the causes and cures of abusive disorders. These men can help!


The families of Reeva Steenkamp, Nicole Brown Simpson, Annie Le, Morgan Harrington, and
others (including two classmates of mine whose murders changed my world, Shelley Sikes
from TCHS and Cindy Rounsaville from RICE) deserve to see Justice for loved ones by
developing standardized medical procedures for detecting, treating, and containing criminal
illness, like any other deadly diseases, before it's too late.


Thank you!
 
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