The Priviledge of Anonymity

If you don't want people to know that you're a rapist, that's okay. According to the British government. Well, during the trial at least. Now, far be it from me to be one of THOSE feminists who assumes that all men are bastards who just want to rape or rip off women all the time. I'm not. I love men, I really do, there are some truly fantastic guys in this world. However, there is always the sector of the population who commit rape, and it is these ones and these ones only that are under discussion now.

Britain has a conviction rate of 6% in rape cases. That means that for every rape reported, only 6% of them are ever successfully prosecuted. We will, for a moment, leave aside the likelihood that a large number of rapes go unreported (in South Africa, health officials estimate that approximately 90% of rapes go unreported. I don't know what the statistics are for the UK), and skip straight to the punch line. Why do accused rapists get protection? I know there are anonymity laws to prevent people from being mobbed, and it's considered indiscrete of journalists to publish names early on in court cases. However, if you read about a guy who raped you being on trial for another rape, wouldn't you like the opportunity to come forward and add your testimony?

As far as I'm concerned (and I'm risking sounding like a crazy man-hater again), if you (allegedly?) take away someone's dignity, you lose the right to have your reputation protected. Yes, I advocate naming and shaming. Now, it could probably ruin the love life of whoever was accused, but they'll probably be cleared of the crime anyway. At least if we can name and shame, the survivor gets a modicom of justice, knowing that other people finally know the truth about him. Or am I just being an overly-emotional rape survivor here?

Edit to add: Source

Post-protest thoughts

So, I took part in the protest on Friday. It didn't affect me as badly as I had anticipated it would. Sure, I got weird looks from the guys in my chem class (and my botany lecturer), but it's not like I'm not used to those. Last year, I got all kinds of weird looks when I wore the t-shirt. However, I think it may have affected me more than I had anticipated. Over the last few days, I've heard a number of truly disturbing stories. Stories of women who were raped and received no justice because it was a he-said-she-said situation, stories of women who saw protesters and finally gathered the courage to tell someone that it had happened to them. All of them have made me think long and hard about this as an issue, which has been highlighted by a couple of news stories released since Friday.

Story 1: Restoring virginity
Long have I been scathing of people who hold up virginity as the determining factor in a person's worth. Having had sex does not make you 'more of a man' or 'a dirty woman' (okay, sometimes it does make you 'a dirty woman', but know that I mean that phrase in an entirely complimentary way). It doesn't determine the worth or worthiness of a person. In addition, I think there are some things you want to find out before you're committed to someone for life (like whether or not they like to play scat games or something. Fair enough if that's your thing, but it's not for me), so I think that sex before marriage is a good idea. Personal opinion. Still, the thought of paying thousands to have sex made more painful in order to avoid excommunication/humiliation/the death penalty strikes me as being unfair.

Story 2: The 'Holy Semen' Scam
Possibly the best argument for the teaching of logic and rational thinking to school children. An Israeli man has tricked a large number of women into sleeping with him by claiming that his pearl-jam was holy/had healing powers. I will, for the moment, lay aside the many, many cracks I want to make about superpowered man-gravy and dash onwards to the point. He charged women for sex, doing things with them that would make a Dutch sex worker blush, and based it all on a lie. (For those of you who don't know, lying about why you're having sex is [under South African law] called 'rape of intent', and is a punishable crime.)

Now, how the hell do things like this happen? How badly has the education system failed that people who get up to things like this are able to? 'Reparing' virginity? Really? It's the twenty-first century! How are we still hung up on the ideal woman who is loyal only to the man she serves? I thought that went out of fashion years ago when women got the vote and became more than just a glorified cook/maid/sex slave with no agency. And, honestly, how uninformed are Israeli women to buy into a scam where they get f**ked (literally)?

I think the bottom line is this: we REALLY need to start being open about sex! Although, I will *hi5* the Israeli government for upholding the law on this one, maybe they need to start teaching useful things in health class so that girls/women can spot a fraud like that? Oh, and one more thing: virginities only get lost once. The presence/absence of a piece of skin is irrelevant, the memory of the horror/ecstasy (depending on whether yours was like mine or Sebastian Vettel's) of one's first time is what is important - should we not, perhaps, be telling people that, rather than preaching about their worthiness as individuals because of their virginisation status?

1 in 9 protest - Midday report

At Rhodes, an organisation named 1in9 in conjunction with a number of partners both from within Rhodes' student and student support network and larger organisations representing all of South Africa organise a protest. Well, actually, they organise many protests, but this one is happening today, so it's the one I'm writing about. It's called the Sexual Violence = Silence protest and features three kinds of participants: men who choose to participate in solidarity with rape survivors (often to support their girlfriends/sisters/mums who have experienced sexual abuse) by wearing a solidarity t-shirt, women who choose to particiate in solidarity (although, many of these women are rape survivors but are still working up the courage to talk about it publicly) by wearing a shirt that says "SEXUAL VIOLENCE = SILENCE" and having their mouths taped shut for the duration of the day (to signify the silencing nature of sexual crimes), and women who have survived rape and wear a short that loudly proclaims "RAPE SURVIVOR".

I'm wearing the third kind of t-shirt. Last year was my first time wearing it, after having worn the tape the previous year, and it was far more difficult than I'm finding today. Perhaps this is a function of time. I'm now comfortable admitting (I hate using that word in this context. It implies, somehow, an acceptance of part of the blame for the act that was something I voiced my objections to at the time) that I'm a rape survivor, although it took a long while (like five years) to get to the stage where I was comfortable talking about it (and by that I mean "didn't cry like a baby every time"). Even now, I can't talk about it without employing sarcasm, the ironic understatement, and a fair amount of double-speak. Part of that, however, is because people start to look so very awkward when you talk about rape.

It's not something that's really spoken about, perhaps because the prospect of being violated, or having someone you know violated in that way is unthinkable to so many people. The reality is, it's more common than you think. A South African woman, if she lives to be fifty years old, has a 50% chance of being raped at least once in her lifetime. I would quote an endless stream of stats about this, but the truth is, nobody knows for sure how prevalent it is as a crime. It often comes with a violent, overwhelming sense of guilt and shame (thank you, oh wise puritanical society, for instilling within us a guilt reaction to sex-related issues). Added to which, for many survivors, the assault was committed by someone they know - (shudder) often related to - and are told that nobody will believe them if they say something.

Unfortunately, many women aren't believed. It's often a he-said, she-said situation, because women don't want to subject themselves to the humiliation of a rape exam and cross-examination on the witness stand. I didn't even realise that I needed to go for a rape exam when it happened. I was still rationalising that I had asked for what I got by allowing myself to be naked with a man (not taking into account the fact that I felt far more affected by two drinks that I should have been. I don't know what I had, but I know I had something). I partly blame my own naivety for allowing myself to be duped into a) going home with him and b) believing that it was my fault. I also partly blame a woman named Suzie, who used to write the advice column for a Focus on the Family magazine (yes, I used to subscribe to right-wing, conservative , anti-choice, anti-feminist religious propaganda) in which she told an advice-seeker (who snuggled on the couch with a boy, only to wake up with his hand unwantedly in her pants) that she shouldn't expect anything else if she's going to get into "tempting situations". How very, very far was her response from the love and support that she should have offered?!

I think that's the bottom line: for the most part, people have been supportive in my journey to recovery. (Yes, I can now enjoy sex without flinching and believing that I have no choice about the activities participated in.) I've lost count of the number of hours I spent sitting on the floor of either The Aussie Surprise Fairy or The Irish Surprise Fairy's room, being fed tea and rusks and being cuddled while I sobbed. That's really what this protest is about - showing people that they're not alone. (Warning: after-school-special moment impending.) I take strength, knowing that other people have gone through the same thing as me and survived (not physically, mind. It hits you emotionally in ways I can't describe to you). Halfway through this very, very emotionally naked day for me, I'd like to say this: if you're a member of the survivors' club, whether you've told anyone or not, take heart, you're not alone.