Sad Truth of Being a Girl

[cyclo 30131]

The attached article brought the following reflections to mind.

Many, many years ago I stumbled upon a rape in progress. Time slowed to a crawl for a brief moment. What I first noticed, and will never forget... was the look of absolute terror in the young woman's eyes. I can still see her face all these years later. The second thing I noticed was the knife at her throat. Then I was snapped out of my shock by the sound of her voice, not screaming, but pleading. Pleading with both her attacker and I. With her attacker not to harm her, and with me not to walk away. There should never be any doubt that regardless of the circumstances, rape is an act of violence.

Several months later when the case went to trial the young woman was still suffering, in counselling and having difficulty coping with her studies and daily life. In this case the man was convicted, probably because there was more evidence against him than you would see in a typical rape case.

Flash forward a few decades and I was a juror in a rape case involving two people who knew each other. There were no other witnesses and I saw how difficult it can be for the prosecution to reach the threshold for a criminal conviction, which is "beyond a reasonable doubt", when there aren't any witnesses or evidence of violence (bruising or cuts etc.). Nevertheless, you could see that the woman was still traumatized. In a civil case the standard is "on the balance of probabilities" which would be a much more reasonable test for cases such as this.

As the father of a young woman who managed to get through her teen years safely, I sadly realize that the threat of rape will always be with her, even from men who are supposed to be friends, lovers or husband. Yes, there are any number of misfortunes that could befall her in life, but none has the emotional and social consequences that rape does. We all know women who have been raped, whether they've told you or not. Generally they hold their suffering close to themselves and remain silent except with their dearest friends and maybe their families.


[B]LOWE: Grappling With Sad Truth of Being a Girl[/B]
April 12, 2013 - 6:34am BY LEZLIE LOWE

LEZLIE LOWE
The sad, awful truth about Rehtaeh Parsons?

Her story, of being raped, harassed and taunted for it and being let down by her school and the police, is, in many ways, just the story of being a girl.

Take the case of a woman I know. A woman who was raped last summer.

A different case than Parsonsâ??s, no camera-phone photos of the assault making the rounds, no online abuse, no end in suicide. An old-school rape, if you will. Boy knows girl; boy attacks girl. But the same sexism came into play in the aftermath.

When this woman went to police, the interviewer questioned if an assault had happened at all, said perhaps there was sex, but it was consensual. This woman, her interviewer suggested, had gotten intimate with her attacker and then changed her fickle mind. Silly girl.

There is reluctance â?? perhaps logical â?? to prosecute crimes with a dearth of physical evidence. That was the case with this woman. And, we have learned, with Rehtaeh.

But implying that the woman I know had made up the whole thing? Itâ??s flat-out victim-blaming.

She left the station without pressing charges. The episode was a humiliation, a failure. Yet, it was further than most women ever get.

I can count a handful of friends whoâ??ve been raped over the years, by strangers, groups, friends, boyfriends. Not one took the matter to the cops.

Statistics Canada says about 10 per cent of assaults get reported to police; 72 per cent of women only tell friends. My pals, it seems, are like most women. They swallowed their rapes and kept chugging along.

Shocked?

Oh, please.

The risk of being raped goes along with being a woman.

Donâ??t twist that into acceptance or resignation or anything else.

I didnâ??t grow up expecting that rape or abuse was my lifeâ??s lot. I donâ??t resign myself to the immutability of rape stats â?? 500,000 women a year, Statistics Canada guesses.

But I have seen (and experienced) enough drunken advantage-taking and heard enough tearful or stoic stories of assault to know it happens. It happens so much.

Iâ??m outraged over rape.

But hereâ??s what Iâ??m not â?? surprised it still happens.

Reporting rape, in all but the best evidence-collection circumstances, ends infrequently in victory. Itâ??s plum-dandy to tell women to report assaults, to hope theyâ??ll connect with the right cop or the right nurse and to urge them to forge ahead with court cases. Nothing will change, it might be argued, if women donâ??t get these assaults, and these alleged rapists, into the system.

But my, isnâ??t that a terror of options. Either report your rape and get a cheesecake-slice chance at conviction, while peers jeer, cops hint youâ??re making it up and CNN laments the ruin of the â??promisingâ? lives of your attackers, as it did last month after the conviction of the Steubenville rapists.

Or you keep quiet and wonder â?? as I know at least one friend of mine has â?? whether a rapist has been left free to attack others.

Do I judge my friends and the 90 per cent of women who donâ??t report their rapes?

God, no.

Out-of-the-box thinkers might rightly wonder if a convenient solution lies in just expecting men not to rape. Thatâ??s cultural change, absolute in its necessity.

But in the meantime, we need to look at a system that stops women from reporting crimes and when they do, too often leaves them with nothing but the sad, awful truth that they are just a girl â?? and nothing can be done.


Lezlie Lowe is a freelance writer in Halifax. Follow her on Twitter @lezlielowe.

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