Trigger Warning for descriptions of sexual violence and rape apologism.

The NY Review of Books has published an article by David Kaiser and Lovisa Stannow about the enormous problem of prison rape in the U.S. and how to adequately address it (h/t).

The authors describe in detail the sickening severity and tremendousness of the problem, and how it is only exacerbated by the apathy of those with the power to help victims. A very small excerpt (again, trigger warning):

When Laura Berry told the Arkansas corrections officer who had raped her that she thought she might be pregnant, he forced her, according to the commission’s findings, to drink turpentine and quinine, hoping that would induce an abortion. After Kenneth Young was raped at knifepoint by a cellmate in Pennsylvania, he flooded the cell to attract the attention of officers, and as punishment was put in a “dry cell” for ninety-six hours, with no access to running water, a shower, or a toilet—forced “to live in his own excrement,” as a court later put it. Alisha Brewer told our organization, JDI, that she was raped by three different corrections officers as a twenty-two-year-old prisoner in Kentucky; she reported the last two incidents, and was punished with more than four months of punitive segregation and loss of sixty days of good time on her sentence. Another prisoner who wrote to us, and who for obvious reasons prefers to remain anonymous, quoted the male officer who was abusing her: “Remember if you tell anyone anything, you’ll have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life.” We get letters like this every day.

But perhaps their most shocking part of the article for many will be their claim that these atrocities do not need to continue:

One of the most pernicious myths about prisoner rape is that it is an inevitable part of life behind bars. This is simply wrong. As the variance in the BJS findings shows, it can be prevented. In well-run facilities across the country it is being prevented—and this shouldn’t be surprising. After all, the government has extraordinary control over the lives of those it locks up. Stopping sexual abuse in detention is a matter of using sound policies and practices, and passing laws that require them.

If we think rape is bad, one of the worst things a person could force another to endure, we should find prison rape to be especially horrific. For rape in prison involves not just rape, but also being legally kept captive either by or with your rapist(s), for an extended period of time.

Rape in prison is also a form of social discrimination and violence. In prison, as with everywhere else in the world, rapists deliberately seek out the most vulnerable potential victims, whether it be with regards to physical ability, social stature, or both. Even within prison, a place that makes all of its inhabitants marginalized, the most marginalized and the most vulnerable are still the most likely to be raped. Rape in prison is horrific violence, human rights abuse, and personal act of control, but it is also a means of reinforcing abusive social hierarchies of power.

As prison inmates are overwhelmingly and disproportionately likely to be poor, rape victims are also likely to be poor. As prison inmates are overwhelmingly disproportionately likely to be of color as opposed to white, rape victims are also disproportionately likely to be of color. As rapists attack those they perceive as the most vulnerable and least protected, rape victims are overwhelmingly disproportionately likely to be trans*, queer, people with mental health issues, and/or people with other disabilities.

In additional to being a general human rights abuse, rape in prison is a targeted human rights abuse. It’s an abuse targeted at those already most likely to be abused by social systems, hierarchies, and prejudices. It is racist, it is classist, it is misogynistic, it is transphobic, it is homophobic, and it is ableist. The refusal to do anything about it, the complicity and even encouragement from so many quarters, shows that the targeted and prejudiced nature in which these already horrific abuses are carried out is not accidental. It’s not even negligent. It’s deliberate.

While no one ever deserves to be raped, even if they are rapists themselves, and while the article rightly notes that corrections officers make up a majority of prison rapists, the fact is also that inmates convicted of violent crimes are the most likely inmates to act as rapists. And since rapists seek out the most vulnerable victims, inmates convicted of non-violent crimes are the most likely to be raped. While it would not be at all acceptable even if it was, rape also does not act as a deterrent to future crimes. It just creates victims who have nowhere to turn, no one who cares, and who are actually likely to commit more crimes upon release as a method of coping with their extraordinary trauma.

The problem is that too many people believe that rapists are the ones being raped, and too many people believe that rape is an appropriate form of punishment. The problem is that the right to not be raped is not seen as a fundamental human right. And prisoners are not seen as deserving of fundamental human rights, anyway.

The problem is also that too many people think their tax dollars are worth more than the human rights of those they see as sub-human. Because in spite of the fact that there are standards that could be put in place to reduce the rates of prison rape now, the main holdup is apparently money:

The main concern expressed by opponents of the commission’s standards is that observing them will be too expensive. One PREA provision barred the commission and the attorney general from establishing standards “that would impose substantial additional costs compared to costs currently expended by Federal, State, and local prison authorities.”

Indeed, even the authors of this piece — who overall, while being a little too apologist towards corrections officers for my taste, still appear to care about this issue vastly more than the majority of the population — take the time to carefully note:

Still, no one doubts that bringing corrections systems across the country into compliance with the standards will require money, and everyone acknowledges the importance of this consideration.

This is where it becomes time to take a cold, hard look at our priorities in life. Because, by the standard laid out here, I am officially classified as “no one,” and proudly so. Personally, I actually don’t acknowledge the importance of the money consideration, at all. I’m really spending most of my time acknowledging the importance of not giving serial rapists captive and indefinite victims.

I’m thrilled that the authors have taken the time to detail the fact that the cost of implementing theses standards is not nearly as high as many believe. Political history shows us that this is important.

But I’m also just enormously sick and tired and disgusted by the fact that everywhere I turn, this is where the conversation leads us. I’m sick and tired and disgusted by the fact that people are raping prisoners at this very moment, and cost is what we’re discussing.

I hate taxes as much as the next person — really, I can very sincerely say to you right now that I think paying taxes is not at all fun! But when we live in a society where the concern over the possibility of having to pay more in taxes takes regular and uncontested precedence over issues of social justice and even basic human rights — and do not even begin to kid yourself that we do not live in that society in the U.S. right here, right now — we have gone well and truly off the rails. We have sacrificed and abandoned basic decency. We have forgotten what humanity and empathy look like. We are a society that does not even deserve the right to call itself a society, because a society is supposed to provide some sort of collective and collaborative existence.

It has been said by countless admirable people that a society is best judged not by how it treats its most privileged members, but how it treats those who are most vulnerable. When the desires of middle class folks to have a little bit more money to buy nice things with override the right of our society’s most vulnerable members to not be serially violated and abused by the government in which we trust; when our government’s desire to not piss off the middle class folks who elect them with minor tax hikes, and to give themselves nice fat bonuses and financially prop up their friends, outweighs their duty to protect those people whose lives are in their hands; when the best we can all around do is throw up our arms and say “We’d love to do something, but it costs too much,” there is no way to judge that as anything but an absolute, utter, and disgusting failure.

We have failed, we are currently continuing to fail, and as I write this and you read this, there are women, men, and children all over this country paying for it right now.

Via the Daily Beast comes some rather distressing if entirely unsurprising news. In the wake of the recent devastating earthquake in Haiti, sexual violence against women is also on the rise, and beginning to turn into a crisis of its own. (Trigger Warning on the linked article.)

On top of the catastrophic earthquake that has left more than 200,000 dead and 1.2 million people homeless, the sexual violence felt to me like an unimaginable betrayal of humanity. But once you’ve seen the camps for Haiti’s displaced, it is easy to understand how the abuse of women and girls can happen.

During our mission, we were in 15 of the largest camps for displaced Haitians, and we documented four gang rapes in Parc Jean Marie Vincent camp alone. The camps are unsafe places, and many women live with strangers, having lost contact with family members and friends. Their access to food and water is compromised. They bathe and wash children in public places. Although some latrines have been provided, there is no separation of facilities for women and men—and no lighting—so these are unsafe after dark. Three weeks after the quake, Parc Jean Marie Vincent camp had not received any food, contributing to an atmosphere of anger and anxiety. There were no police or U.N. forces patrolling. The camp is on open ground, allowing anyone to enter the camp and the shelters.

Horrific though it is to consider, and unbelievable thought it may be, sexual violence usually tends to rise in disaster situations, wherever and however they occur. As in times of calm and normalcy, rapists generally seek out access to victims who are the most vulnerable, whether it be because of intoxication or unconsciousness, or (for example) prejudice regarding disability or gender identity that can be easily exploited. When disaster strikes, when so many lose so much, everyone automatically becomes more vulnerable to everything, from weather, to food shortages, to predators. To rapists, those newly vulnerable women look like potential victims.

In order to abuse people, rapists first abuse circumstance. This story is not about what Haitians do in a time of crisis. This story is about what rapists do in a time of crisis.

Though the article notes that — like in most countries — rape was a problem in Haiti before the earthquake (rape apparently only became recognized as a crime in 2005), the fact is that even with the best starting point, laws do extremely little when there is no order to work with. And when misogyny and a male sense of entitlement over female bodies is more or less a worldwide norm, some will choose to rape. Put these two together, and you’ve got an epidemic. With the rebuilding process in Haiti expected to be so slow and difficult, and the long-term international aid expected to be much less abundant than the immediate aid was, there is even greater room for concern.

As noted in the article, what is needed in the short term is vastly improved shelter and privacy, greater security, and actual stability in terms of reliable food, water, and health care access. I imagine that non-rapist men, who almost certainly still make up a majority, are also needed to actively take up the cause against violence. And in the long-term, what Haiti needs is for countries like the U.S. to start taking responsibility for their own part in exacerbating this crisis, and to respond by rectifying those wrongs with real justice.

Yesterday, International Women’s Day, Amnesty International released two reports on sexual violence against women and judicial response to this violence. The report Breaking the silence: Sexual justice in Cambodia focuses on how police corruption intimidates, frightens, and harms victims in Cambodia who attempt to come forward, usually with one’s chances of justice falling along class lines. I haven’t yet had the time to read the entire 60 page report (pdf), but regardless wanted to draw attention to the shameful situation, and the parts of the report I have been able to examine.

Demanding cash bribes from victims and/or their families before agreeing to an investigation is the most common act of corruption on behalf of police. In addition to this being a generally horrific request, the fact is that many Cambodians simply do not have the funds to pay the bribe, or must endure extreme hardship to do so. From the actual report:

A clear majority of interviewees told Amnesty International that they had paid bribes to the police, or had been asked to pay bribes but did not have any money. In 21 of the 30 cases victims reported that police had “investigated” the incident. Sixteen of these responded that they knew they had had to pay bribes to ensure an investigation. Typically, they were asked for between five and 10 USD to initiate an investigation, which almost none of them could afford.

In some cases, police will offer to take other forms of “payment” in exchange for starting an investigation — such as one case Amnesty International found, where a police officer told the mother of a victim that he would investigate the rape, if only she complied with his rape of her first:

Two perpetrators raped Mom five times in 2006, when she was 11 years old. Her mother went to the district police, where the police chief asked her for a 10 USD bribe to pay for “the investigation and stationery”. When she did not have the money he requested, the police chief asked her to meet him at a hotel room, suggesting that sex in lieu of money would facilitate the investigation of the rape of her daughter.

Some police officers interviewed by Amnesty International argue that the requests for bribes are the result of underfunding. While this may be to blame for some of the behavior on behalf of police, it doesn’t explain nor justify a climate in which sanctioned rape via coercion and duress by police officers is seen as a valid exchange for an investigation into a different rape. Further, even insofar as it is true, this underfunding nonetheless causes appalling and terrifying treatment towards survivors (emphasis mine):

Police officers who wished to remain anonymous told Amnesty International that their experience in working directly with victims and criminal investigations confirmed this bleak situation. They complained they had no available budget to conduct investigations, and therefore either had to ask the complainant to provide funds; not conduct an investigation; or pay with their own money. Clearly, the prevalence of corruption in the police force takes place in a context of inadequate resources allocation.

Police told Amnesty International that a lack of budget blocked them from acting in ways that ensures the well-being of the victim. For instance, when victims and suspected perpetrators were transported to court for initial questioning, police officers said they typically transport them in the same car, often sitting together in the back seat. Police officers also explained that families of victims and perpetrators were generally also required to split the transportation cost.

Even when families can pay for an investigation, nothing akin to justice is usually actually done. Indeed, rather than a court process with the potential for incarceration for the perpetrator, most rape cases are handled through a mediation process, with a monetary payment to the victim (or victim’s family) as the best outcome:

Extra-judicial settlements are widely used in rape cases; several high-ranking officials believe it is the most common “solution”. In Khmer, the term samroh-samruol is used for this mediation process, which is typically initiated and facilitated by police at the commune or district levels. The police act as a mediator between the families of the victim and the perpetrator, and seek to secure a monetary settlement from the perpetrator or his family to the victim or her family, on the condition that the victim withdraws any criminal complaint. The mediator receives part of the settlement. Around half of the interviewees had experienced such intervention.

Partly accepted as alternative justice, and by some perceived as “the best option available,” extra-judicial settlements are not recognized as a legitimate form of remedy in Cambodian law. Nevertheless, they continue and the authorities recognize that they are widespread.

…

Although the samroh-samruol is an intervention that is sometimes perceived as providing some “closure” for the victim, several of its characteristics indicate that it may perpetuate the stigma facing victims of rape. One source also said that some victims do not want to receive money, as such a transfer would make them look “cheap,” or as indicated in the case referred to on page 25, would lead the police to perceive the rape as consensual sex. Several of the victims who had received, or agreed to receive, money expressed fear or anger that the perpetrator remained at large and that he could repeat the offence against other women or girls.

Now, my personal reaction to the idea of sitting in a mediation session with my rapist is simply that I can imagine few things more horrifying and triggering. But at the same time, I know that all victims have different needs, and think that alternative avenues should be open for victims to explore, should they want them. I also understand that different cultures have different methods of dealing with crime, and I am entirely open in general to the idea of community solutions to violence that do not involve the prison system.

But all of that said, this is not a community-based solution, but an illegal government practice that seemingly involves a lot of exploitation. Further, it’s unclear that the victims going through the process actually desire to, rather than simply perceiving it as their only option for their perpetrator to be held accountable at all. And importantly, these kinds of solutions are absolutely useless if they do not require real accountability from the perpetrator and address the roots of violence, but only allow him an easy out and opportunity to offend again.

But the police corruption is often worse, still. As in so many parts of the world (including the good ol’ U.S. of A.), it can extend to outright violence, usually against the most vulnerable targets. In addition to the coercive sexual violence against poor women, referenced above, police are also quite likely to be the original perpetrators of sexual violence against sex workers. When sex workers are raped by non-police, they are thus also extremely reluctant to seek out help from law enforcement (emphasis mine):

Amnesty International interviewed two sex workers who reported that uniformed police officers had raped them. In both instances, the victims had been rounded up in raids on sex workers and first encountered the perpetrator while in police custody.

Police had arrested Thavy together with four other sex workers in a Phnom Penh park in November 2009. They were taken to the nearest police station, where a few officers, who appeared to be drunk, beat the detainees with their batons on the ankles and forced them to clean the toilet. A uniformed policeman who did not work at this particular station was also there. After a couple of hours at the station, he approached Thavy and forced her to go with him to a guesthouse in another part of town, where he raped her.

…

Sex workers are particularly vulnerable in their relations with police, which translates into a very low reporting rate of rape, regardless of whether the perpetrator(s) was a policeman or not. All five sex workers interviewed by Amnesty International had been raped numerous times, but none of them had ever gone to the police. Four had concluded that the police pose a danger to them, not a means of protection or assistance. One had not even known that she could have reported the incident to police.

The nauseating icing on this giant, repulsive cake, is that rates of rape in Cambodia also appear to generally be rising.

The report has its flaws. First of all, it seems to wholly ignore the experiences of trans* and intersex victims, as well as victims who are men and boys — in part because this is the general framework usually used when discussing sexual violence, and in part because, as the report notes, data on sexual violence in Cambodia is so generally scarce. Further, while Amnesty International offers its own long list of recommendations at the end of the report, it doesn’t seem to reference any specific Cambodian organizations by name, and discusses their work only in terms of limitations. And while I think AI is a fabulous organization, one which I have financially supported myself on numerous occasions, I’d still much rather that support and recognition go to established, on the ground activists who have the best understanding of their own situation. If you know of any such organizations, please pass along the information, as I’d be more than happy to highlight their work here.

Those substantial limitations in mind, however, the information contained in the report is immensely valuable, as is likely the publicity it will generate. I urge you to give it a closer look yourself, and to help spread the word.

Today is International Women’s Day. I wrote my serious post on the subject over at Feministe.

Here, I would like to offer you a bit of frivolity and fun, with Yoko Ono’s 1970s feminist anthem “Woman Power.” Dedicated to all women, I offer it not as a grandiose statement of any kind, but as some feel-good retro, a celebration of women in all of our many forms, and a great beat.

Video Description: Photo of Yoko Ono, with the words WOMAN POWER flashing in pink on a black background during the chorus. Lyrics below.

You’ve heard of woman nation,
Well, that’s coming, baby.
What we need is the power of trust,
That it’s coming.
You’ve heard of the law of selection,
Well, that’s how we’re gonna do it, baby.
We allow men who wanna join us
The rest can just stay by themselves.

Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)

Two thousand years of male society,
Laying fear and tyranny.
Seeking grades and money,
Clinging to values vain and phony.

Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)

Do you know that one day you lost your way, man?
Do you know that some day you have to pay, man?
Have you anything to say, man, except
“make no mistake about it, I’m the president, you hear?
I wanna make one thing clear, I’m the president, you hear?”

Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)

You don’t hear them singing songs,
You don’t see them living life,
’cause they’ve got nothing to say, but
“make no mistake about it, I’m the president, you hear?
I wanna make one thing clear, I’m the president, you hear?”

Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)

You may be the president now,
You may still be a man.
But you must also be a human,
So open up and join us in living.

Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)

In the coming age of feminine society,
We’ll regain our human dignity.
We’ll lay some truth and clarity
And bring back nature’s beauty.

Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)

Ev’ry woman has a song to sing,
Ev’ry woman has a story to tell.
Make no mistake about it, brothers,
We women have the power to move mountains.

Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)

Did you have to cook the meals?
Did you have to knit?
Did you have to care for life instead of killing?
There’s no mistake about it, sisters,
We women have the power to change the world.

Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power!
Woman power!
Woman power! (woman power!)

Trigger Warning for discussions of sexual violence and rape apologism.

You have quite likely read on other blogs about part two of the Center for Public Integrity’s report into sexual violence on U.S. college and university campuses. I wrote about part one of the report, A Culture of Secrecy, back when it was released. And A Culture of Indifference is no less brilliant, distressing and enraging. You can check out all the different sections here: A Lack of Consequences for Sexual Assault, An Uncommon Outcome at Holy Cross,  Lax Enforcement of Title IX in Sexual Assault Cases, and ‘Undetected Rapists’ on Campus: A Troubling Plague of Repeat Offenders. Be forewarned, however, that it may be particularly upsetting or triggering. After merely reading the first section, I was personally so filled with rage that my vision actually blurred for several minutes.

Plenty of bloggers have already written about the general findings, the enormous problem of on-campus violence, and the downright insulting (lack of) response from the institutions where they occur. One particularly great piece was written by Sarah from SAFER, over at RH Reality Check, with my favorite small excerpt reprinted below:

Clearly school administrations do not have the same powers as law enforcement, and as such they cannot technically “prosecute a crime.” But students who choose to use the campus disciplinary system realize the difference. What they expect, and rightly so, is that their school is invested in upholding standards of acceptable and unacceptable student conduct, as they often do when passing judgment in a host of other misconduct cases. Students are routinely dismissed from schools for drug charges and plagiarism. Why should a charge of sexual assault be different? Students are betrayed by their schools not because the school is unable to mirror the criminal justice system, but because the refusal to treat sexual assault as a serious breach of student conduct amounts to entirely dismissing the severity of the crime and the trauma undergone by the survivor.

But as I find myself generally compelled to do when presented with the enormity of rape culture, I want to focus on a few specific, small sections from the report’s findings — aspects of the rape culture CPI exposes which I find to be particularly troubling.

In the first section of the report, a school administrator explains the lack of harsh punishment for those found responsible for sexual violence, and why most are allowed to continue as students:

Not every sexual offense deserves the harshest penalty, they argue; not every culpable student is a hardened criminal. “There’s not a one-size-fits-all in these cases,” contends Rick Olshak, associate dean of students at Illinois State University. He says schools are more likely to expel in cases involving penetration without consent, and clear intent. “It’s the cases in the middle” — involving miscommunication and mutual intoxication — “that are more difficult and that will result in less than expulsion,” Olshak adds.

Yes, it looks as though schools are being particularly strict in their criteria — in the third section of the report, one investigating officer actually explains that she did not pursue charges because there were no eye-witnesses to the assault.

But I’m more interested in this broad idea about “cases in the middle.” As if there is a “middle” when you’re talking about rape.

This idea that some rapes are Really Bad Rapes, and other rapes are Eh, Not That Big of a Deal Rapes, is incredibly damaging — especially when the only kinds of rapes that count as Really Bad Rapes are the kinds that are the least common — and also incredibly pervasive. Some rapes are more violent than others, but the bottom line is that rape is rape.

Saying that there are “middle” rape cases, that involve miscommunication and mutual intoxication, first of all, is patently false. Rape does not occur because of “miscommunication” — it just doesn’t. It occurs because of one party’s decision to ignore, disengage from, and/or reject communication. The idea that there are hoards of rapists out there “accidentally” raping is absurd on its face. But even if it was true, it results in a no less responsible rapist. If you don’t want to rape someone, you make sure that the other party is enthusiastically and meaningfully consenting. If you fail to do that and rape someone, there was no accident involved — just the likely and logical outcome of a conscious choice to disregard the bodily autonomy and safety of another person.

Secondly, the criteria expressed so-called “middle” rapes is inherently shaming and blaming towards the victim. Hidden not-so-subtly into the idea that a rape occurred because of “miscommunication” is the idea that a rape wouldn’t have been committed if only the victim had communicated better. When it comes to intoxication, we’re also presented with the paradox that a perpetrator is less responsible for his behavior if he’s intoxicated, while a victim is of course more to blame for hers.

The above statement also suggests that a perpetrator’s “intent” materially matters — that what was in a rapist’s heart is more important than what the rapist did to another person. Even worse, it further divides the hierarchy of Really Bad Rapes and Eh, Not That Big of a Deal Rapes by confirming that the criteria for Really Bad Rape involves penetration — one can presume, from the overarching cultural narrative from which this entire justification draws, that “penetration” in this context means “penetration of the vagina (or maybe anus) with a penis.” Removed from the definition of Really Bad Rape are other non-consensual sexual acts performed on a variety of genitals and other body parts, likely as well as penetration with fingers or objects.

Most likely to be classified as a rape in the “middle” are also those cases that involve the most marginalized victims, whether they be trans*, of color, disabled, poor, etc. Because the number one cultural criteria for classification as a Really Bad Rape is a perfect victim. And in our society, the only perfect victim can be a straight, cis, able-bodied, middle-class, virginal white girl.

A Really Bad Rape also needs a perfect perpetrator — someone ideally the absolute opposite of everything the perfect victim is not. And those who don’t fit the mold of the perfect perpetrator rarely get classified as perpetrators at all, including by schools and their disciplinary procedures:

For instance, IU officials have expelled only one of 12 students found responsible for alleged sexual assaults in the past four years, as compared to seven suspensions and four probations or reprimands. “Our basic philosophy is not to expel,” confirms Freeman. The university will kick out a student believed to be a threat, she says, yet “that does not mean that every single person found responsible for sexual assault gets expelled. They’re not all predators.”

Of course, the fact of the matter is that research shows most rapists are serial rapists. The idea that rape is a one time “mistake” is not only false because rape is a whole lot more than a mistake, but also because rapists usually rape a whole lot more than once.

But even if they didn’t, it would be irrelevant to the larger issue here. Because raping someone automatically makes you someone who preys on other people — a predator — no matter how many times you do it. And because even if the rapist will never, ever rape again, that doesn’t change a damn thing for the victim.

This is the problem with centering perpetrators. Not only do we start wondering what their “intent” was and start howling about “miscommunication” and “mutual intoxication,” we also completely erase the experience of the victim. There’s a reason that, as the report found, so many rape victims leave campuses when their rapists stay. It’s because no matter who else their rapist may or may not rape, that rapist still raped them. Because whether or not the rapist is generally a “predator” is irrelevant when the rapist preyed on them. Because while some victims may be able to tolerate the threat of running into their rapist, of living in the same general area as their rapist, of knowing people who are friends with their rapist, no one should ever have to.

The threat that a rapist poses to a community at large is certainly an issue, and reason enough for expulsion. But it’s not the only reason, nor should it even necessarily be considered the ultimate reason. The threat that a rapist poses to those already assaulted, whether physical or emotional, is just as real, just as serious, just as valid a justification. No, just as valid an imperative.

Here is where the overarching problem with schools’ disciplinary procedures, as well as the problem with how we as a society evaluate rape in general, comes to light. We spend more time looking at how the rapist thought about the event, rather than what the rapist actually did. We spend more time thinking about how the rapist might have meant things differently, rather than looking at the violence and oppression the rapist actually enacted. And we give more credence to the rapist’s intent than to the victim’s trauma and sense of violation.

And there can simply be no justice for rape victims when the first order of business is always to consider how the rapist feels.

Trigger Warning for discussions of police harassment and violence against trans* people.

The New Jersey police department is being sued after two Newark officers allegedly harassed a trans woman on the basis of her gender identity.

Diana Taylor of Newark said two officers steered their cruiser into her path as she walked down a street two blocks from her home on March 23, 2009. According to Taylor, the officers made fun of her wig and demanded she show them her identification. She didn’t have it with her, but she gave them her legal name, [redacted].

The two officers had placed a bet on Taylor’s gender before they blocked her way, she said during a news conference after the ACLU-NJ filed the lawsuit in Essex County Superior Court on Wednesday, Feb. 17. One said to the other, “You’re right. I owe you $10. It is a man,” Taylor recalled.

She further alleged the officers began tormenting her by calling her a “chick with a dick,” “faggot” and other derogatory names. Taylor added they further embarrassed her by questioning her sexuality as witnesses gathered.

She said the officers handcuffed her and took her to a police station where they searched crime databases looking for a reason to arrest her. Although they found she had no record, Taylor contends police continued to humiliate her by frisking her in a sexually intrusive manner.

What these officers have allegedly done is not in the least bit unusual in terms of interactions between police and trans* people. For many trans* people of all identities (binary, non-binary, agendered/non-gendered, etc.), but particularly trans women, and particularly trans women of color, law enforcement is entirely synonymous with violence.

Threats from police range from “only” misgendering and other verbal harassment, to the denial of medical treatment and other basic necessities in prison, to beatings, other physical assault, and sexual assault by police and/or while in police custody.

Indeed, just last week, a San Antonio police officer allegedly handcuffed and raped a trans woman while on duty.

And so, while I’m sure that someone is aching to tell me that “not all police officers are like that,” it doesn’t change the fact that there is a problem of violence on a systematic level. It doesn’t change the fact that for those living with marginalized identities, the police are not seen as protectors are good people doing their jobs, but as very real threats, and as downright terrifying. It doesn’t change the fact that we live in a culture that sanctions and encourages police violence, and perpetually excuses it with the rationalization that “they must have had a good reason.” It doesn’t change the fact that we live in a culture where trans* people are perceived as “deviant,” where supposedly “deviant” people are perceived as less human, and where bodies perceived as less human are perceived as bodies deserving of violence.

And the fact that all of this is true also doesn’t change the fact that our world should never, ever have to be a place where one can look at what was done to Diana Taylor and rationally think to themselves “thank god they only harassed her,” where one can be logically grateful that the sexual assault — and do not kid yourself that “frisking in a sexually intrusive manner” is not sexual assault — did not turn into an even more violent rape, where one can understandably breathe even the tiniest sigh of relief, because it could have been so, so much worse. That the world is that place right now is a complete and utter horror.

I wish Ms. Taylor the best of luck with her case. I hope she receives justice for what was done to her, and I praise ACLU-NJ for fighting on her behalf.

But history shows us that police brutality and other misconduct is rarely punished, especially when the victim is a person of color or trans* (and Ms. Taylor is both). And it shows us further that even when punished, won cases rarely result in substantial and sustainable change, because the small fear of an outside possibility rarely negates one’s overwhelming sense of superiority, power, and invincibility — and because even if it did, fear does not breed real respect. And as hard as winning a case against a police officer or force is, getting people to view other people not like themselves as real, live human beings is even harder.

via Transgriot

This past Thursday, February 25th, was George Harrison’s birthday. He would have turned 67.

And with it, we mark the (admittedly probably intermittent) return of Gratuitous Beatles Blogging.

I’ve always had a special place in my heart for the Quiet Beatle, but as I’ve begun an obsession with collecting vinyl records over these past several months,¹ I’ve explored his solo work a bit more fully and found my love towards him grow tremendously.

George was a fabulous songwriter, a stellar musician, topnotch guitarist, and a very witty man. But he’s not normally praised for his vocals.

That’s understandable. For one, with his main legacy belonging to the Beatles, he’s greatly overshadowed in terms of vocal talent by both John and Paul. For another, his voice wasn’t that particularly strong. He didn’t possess a large range. He couldn’t hold a note for a very long time. Myself, I’ve always referred to George as the world’s greatest backup singer — not as an insult in the least, but as recognition that his vocal backing in the Beatles was routinely amazing. In that sense, his voice certainly was versatile, and whatever John or Paul was doing, he made it work. He didn’t just allow John and Paul to overshadow him, he also made them better.

At the same time, I consider it a serious mistake to simply overlook George’s lead vocal work. His voice had weaknesses and faults, but he also taught himself not only how to control them, but how to use them to his advantage. Further, I think that if you approach vocals looking only at how large of a range a singer has and how long he or she can hold a note, you’re cheating yourself out of an awful lot. After all, “errors” are a part of the beauty. Singing isn’t only about sound; it’s also about communication and connection. And there, I cannot accuse George of any serious deficiency.

1. My Sweet Lord

This choice may strike many as either an odd or easy pick. It was George’s biggest solo hit, making it easy, and the vocals taken on their own aren’t that particularly spectacular, making it odd. But just like with my love of John’s Stand By Me,² it’s not as much about the sound George makes while singing this song, it’s about the passion with which he does so. When George sings “I really want to know you, I really want to go with you,” I’ll be damned if you don’t believe him.

This song is praise, and it’s a prayer, but it’s also a plea. He’s saying, “Please, Lord, please, help me find my way to you.” And while not at all sharing George’s passion or path towards spirituality, I can’t help but be entirely moved by that devotion and that need. I think that all of us have likely, at some point, felt a deep and unrelenting need for something, a need that we didn’t quite know how to fulfill, but felt like we would be lost if we didn’t. George’s vocal here speaks to that.

2. If Not For You

Sticking with George’s 1970 masterpiece All Things Must Pass,³ his rendition of this Bob Dylan song has always struck me as absolutely gorgeous. It’s simple, it’s intimate, and it is, in my humble estimation, just perfect. This is one of those songs where I have great difficulty concentrating on anything else while it plays. When he sings “the winter would hold no spring,” the world around me slows down. There are no vocal gymnastics here, but there is pure, shimmering sweetness.

3. Just For Today

1987’s Cloud Nine is such a nerdy 80s album, and I’m not at all ashamed to say that I’m a total nerd for it. But Jeff Lynne’s otherwise ubiquitous synthesizer aside, this particular song doesn’t pigeonhole itself in any one era. It’s a classic. And the vocals themselves are chilling and haunting. I don’t know what else to say, other than to tell you to simply listen. If someone asked me to produce one and only one song as evidence that George Harrison’s vocal abilities are underrated, this is probably the song I would choose.

4. Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth)

This song is a perfect example of what I mean when I say that George learned how to turn his vocal weaknesses into strength. Instead of lamenting the thinness of his voice, he turned it into a lilt. When he learned that his voice quavered on trying to hold an extended note, he exaggerated it and opted to use it as a conscious stylistic choice. And of course, George’s melodic moans in this song are just divine.

5. Something

Easily George’s best vocal during his time with the Beatles, in my opinion, and a lovely vocal all around. But the real shining moment is during the bridge, with George’s anguished cries of I don’t know, I don’t know. Excellent harmonies, too.

(p.s. The video is already a fan favorite, but make sure to check out the amazing high quality of the version below.)

Bonus track …

6. Pisces Fish

This bonus comes from George’s final, brilliant album Brainwashed, completed and released posthumously. Pisces Fish is an all around fabulous song, and George does a lot with his voice throughout. From sweetly melodic vocals during the verses, to gritty and grainy singing during the bridge, to George unusually exercising and displaying the lower range of his voice every chorus, there’s a lot going on. Enjoy. And if you don’t have Brainwashed, pick it up.

And there you have it! What songs do you think I missed? What would your list have looked like? Please engage in a friendly debate in the comments — especially since I sadly do not yet own every single one of George’s solo albums, and could use the recommendations!

Also, if you enjoy the Beatles blogging, feel free to leave suggestions for future posts (whether they be Top 5 lists, or something else entirely) in the comments. I love doing them, but I need the ideas first!

There are exceedingly few places in the world where trans people are truly safe. Turkey, then, is only one of many, many countries where trans people, usually trans women, are violently attacked and murdered at epidemic levels simply for being who they are. The abuses there, however, could be considered particularly bad — and regardless, should not be accepted anywhere.

That is why, following yet more murders, Turkish and international activists have sent a letter to the Prime Minister of Turkey, demanding both protection of trans people and real efforts to change the social attitudes which make this violence acceptable. An excerpt from the letter appears below:

In order to end the ongoing violence and murders of transgender people in Turkey, we respectfully urge the Turkish government to take the following measures:

• 1. Ensure an effective investigation into the murders of Fevzi Yener, Derya Y., and Sinasi Halimoglu, which will be capable of leading to the identification and prosecution of the alleged perpetrator(s) of these crimes. Ensure similar steps are taken in the event of any future crimes against the LGBT community.
• 2. Enact anti-discrimination legislation that includes sexual orientation and gender identity as protected status.
• 3. Collect, analyze and disaggregate national and local data on violence, including violence on the grounds on sexual orientation and gender identity as a recognized category.
• 4. Provide training to law enforcement authorities on issues of sexual orientation and gender identity.

1. Include sexual orientation and gender identity in school curricula as a way to combat gender stereotypes.

• 6. Establish permanent communication mechanisms between the police and Turkish LGBT organizations.
• 7. Revise the Law of Misdemeanors (No. 5326) that provides police the option to fine or otherwise treat individuals as criminals on the grounds of their sexual orientation or gender identity and expression. The vagueness of this law-which purports to “protect public order, general morality, general health, the environment, and the economic order”- allows for prejudicial enforcement by police.

The full English text of the letter can be found here. (Here is the Turkish version.) I highly recommend that you take a moment to go read it, for further context regarding Turkish trans folks’ situation.

I have little else to add, other than to repeat that violence against trans people is an epidemic in many parts of the world, including in the U.S., where I’m writing. The violence is not going to end until we eradicate transphobia, and transmisogyny in particular, and put to rest the idea that cissexual and cisgender identities are superior to and more “real” than transsexual and transgender identities. And that is an enormous and international task.

I found the news of this letter via Helen G at Bird of Paradox. At the bottom of her post is a long list of links to other posts she has written on trans rights (or more accurately, the lack thereof) in Turkey over the past year. I strongly encourage you to click through and view that list of links, at the very least, as a visual reminder of the magnitude of the problem, and to take the time to read some of them.

Earlier this month, Renee wrote a post about an Atlanta billboard targeting black women’s reproductive rights by pointing to the higher rates of abortion among black women, and claiming that abortion clinics are attempting to abort black children out of existence. It’s a great post, touching on many things that will come up here, and you should go read it.

It turns out this issue is about more than a billboard campaign — SisterSong Women of Color Reproductive Health Collective clues us in to the fact that it’s also turning into an issue of legislation and public policy. Anti-choice legislators in Georgia have introduced HB 1155 – The Sex and Race Selection Bill, and while it sounds warm and fuzzy on the outside, SisterSong assures us that it’s not (pdf):

This bill seeks to ban the solicitation and targeting of women of color by abortion providers throughout the state.

This misleading issue of abortions for sex- and race-selection in Georgia means that we have to use facts and science to stand up for women of color without undermining our support for abortion rights or without enforcing racial stereotypes about women of color. Intent on driving a wedge between reproductive justice and racial justice organizations, and pro-choice advocates, the bill reflects the false assumption that abortion providers throughout the state “solicit” women of color. If implemented, this bill will adversely impact abortion providers by requiring them to prove that they are not targeting women of a certain race or ethnicity. This burden could result in delayed medical services, particularly for women of color. Additionally, this legislation would alter the racketeering laws of the Georgia Code to include abortion providers. This is unacceptable as abortion is legal in the State of Georgia, and the alleged abuses of this medical procedure are unfounded. Such a bill would have a terrible effect on women’s ability to access reproductive health care services throughout the state.

While explicitly targeting women of color and attempting to coerce them into abortions would obviously be a horrific, racist thing, as the press release states, there’s no indication that it’s an issue requiring legislation. Further, the legislation is not a benign preventative measure, but an effort to restrict abortion access further than it is already restricted. The women who would be impacted, as is always the case, are those who are already marginalized. It’s clear that proponents of this bill, and those behind the billboard, do not have black women or children’s best interests in mind. They are rather simply opposed to any and all abortions, and find that non-white targets are easy to hit, for a myriad of reasons.

For all of the above reasons, and because I always trust people on the ground to know what is best for their communities much better than I ever could, I strongly support SisterSong in their campaign to defeat HB 1155. As of yesterday, the bill was approved through sub-committee, but the full Judiciary Committee has suspended consideration and not yet voted. SisterSong is urging Georgia residents to call Chairman Rich Golick of the Non-Civil Judiciary Committee TODAY and urge him to VOTE NO TO HB 1155. His office number is 404.656.5943, and his email address is rich.golick@house.ga.gov. If you are someone who can take action, SisterSong has also prepared a list of talking points for your email or phone call (pdf).

But while we are on the topic, I’d also like to discuss the subject of these types of anti-choice attacks a little more closely.

The line of argument being made here — that abortion providers target women of color, usually black women specifically, and are responsible for a genocide, and/or interested in ethnic cleansing — is not new. It’s an argument that has been advanced for some time. The thing is that while we may strongly disagree with the ideas and politics of anti-choice organizers, their methods aren’t usually irrational. Their messaging comes from somewhere, and is repeated because it has an effect on someone. In the case of this racial argument, the appeal to white, anti-choice leaning people is clear: it’s a way to make themselves look like do-gooders, through the guise of anti-racism. But the argument is seemingly more commonly advanced in communities of color. Folks with white guilt aren’t usually the target — black women usually are.

What I rarely see discussed in U.S. pro-choice communities, at the top levels still usually dominated by white activists, is why this messaging is seemingly effective enough to win continued use. The easy answer is that oppressed people are used to prejudice, and thus tend to find accusations of such prejudice compelling, sympathetic, and in line with their lived experiences. (For example, I am probably more likely to believe an accusation of sexism than an average man.) While this may indeed play a role, I’d argue that we’re foolish, as well as promoting racism ourselves, if we ignore that many people of color are suspicious towards pro-choice people because of the movement’s own history with racism.

Because while, no, it’s not true that Planned Parenthood wants to “kill black babies,” it is true that the mainstream U.S. reproductive rights movement has not always been friendly to black women, or had their best interests at heart. Margaret Sanger may not have been the militant eugenicist and racist that she is often portrayed as, but the fact is that she did support some forms of eugenics, which inevitably have a racist impact. While it’s not true that pro-choicers want to coerce certain women into abortion (that would be far from supporting choice), it is true that the more privileged and influential among us have traditionally ignored the rights that would allow many women to carry desired pregnancies to term, and the rights that would allow marginalized women to raise their own children. And while the mainstream reproductive rights movement has long championed access to birth control, it has less frequently promoted real informed choices and consent among anyone other than middle-class white women, as the 1990s Norplant debacle shows.¹

And as action alerts, blog posts, and protest marches tell us, the focus of the movement still is on abortion, rather than equally on the ways that women’s reproductive autonomy is similarly under attack in terms of birthing options, childcare options, healthcare, and social services. The focus of the mainstream reproductive rights movement is still on choice, with little recognition of the fact that in order for meaningful choice to exist, we have to have justice first. And while those who support reproductive rights are much more likely than opponents to care why it is that black women have so many more abortions than white women (working from the position that abortion is morally neutral, but it is always better for a woman who actually wants to continue a pregnancy to be able to do so, and that preventing an unplanned pregnancy is always more ideal than an otherwise unneeded medical procedure), it’s also typically considered a separate issue, a different aspect of being liberal or progressive, and not key to women’s health and reproductive agency.

The U.S. mainstream reproductive rights movement still fails to look at these issues from a holistic standpoint concerning all of women’s lives and the natural variance among them, and as a result those issues that have particular historical resonance among women of color are also left by the wayside.

Thankfully, there are amazing organizations like SisterSong that are not only run by women of color, but also use this framework and organize in communities based on local concerns and needs. But while I think it’d be a great world where they were, they’re still not the face of the pro-choice movement. Those white and middle-class run organizations that, for all of their other courage and important work, have historically excluded many groups explicitly and still gloss over issues today, are.

And until U.S. pro-chociers address this history and the many current problems that remain, not only are these attacks going to continue, we’re also going to be limited in our room for criticism. We can keep addressing individual arguments — and we should — or we can also start addressing the reasons why they may be effective, and start making those people of color who are not already a part of the movement, and who have good, rational reasons to be suspicious, feel as though they are welcome, and as though their issues matter just as much as anyone else’s. If we really care about reproductive justice, we shouldn’t even think about accepting any other kind of movement, anyway.

This video (sorry, embedding is disabled) is of Ewan McGregor on Good Morning America. The part of the video that I’m going to talk about (beginning at :38), discussing McGregor’s recent film made with Roman Polanski, is transcribed below:

George Stephanopoulos: [Roman Polanski]’s also of course going through his troubles right now, being held in Switzerland for, uh … because he’s been extradited for that sex charge [from] many, many years ago. Do think he’s getting what he deserved?

Ewan McGregor: I don’t know, I don’t comment on his case, because it has nothing to do with me. I, I, worked with him as actor, with a director for … I’ve known him for less than I year and … uh, so I don’t make any comment on the case, because it’s, it’s none of my business.

It has nothing to do with me. It’s none of my business.

Now, I don’t know Ewan McGregor from anyone else. I’ve only ever seen one or two of his films, and didn’t walk away with much of an impression in either direction. With regards to Ewan McGregor, I have neither any prior disdain nor affection. He’s just a guy. And, indeed, what McGregor said here is quite arguably not as bad as what Johnny Depp said on the same subject. But people have talked a lot about the kind of thing that Depp said (rationalizations for why Polanski’s rape wasn’t “really” rape, or isn’t worthy of punishment). We’ve talked a lot less about McGregor’s assertion that the subject doesn’t concern him.

I fully understand not wanting to get involved in situations that you were not already a part of, especially when they’re labeled “controversial.” And I also understand not wanting to trash talk your boss — though I don’t understand actively choosing to work for a rapist boss, when there are probably a whole lot of bosses looking to hire you.

But the fact is that “It’s none of my business” is a big problem. Not only because McGregor is essentially saying that rape is not important to him, but also because he’s not the only one who speaks these words. These words are extremely, extremely common.

And they’re words that allow abuse to continue.

All kinds of abuse, whether they be sexual, physical, or emotional — though most commonly when the victim is a marginalized person — are supported through the assertion that it doesn’t concern me. It’s not my problem. I don’t want to get involved. Why should I have an opinion? That’s a private matter. Abuse is allowed to continue because all kinds of people decide that it has nothing to do with them. Victims go unsupported because outsiders don’t want to take a side. Perpetrators are allowed to continue their violence because it doesn’t matter to those who aren’t being abused.

When you say that abuse has nothing to do with you, what you’re actually saying is that abuse has everything to do with you. By deciding to turn away from abuse, to not comment, to not stand up against it, to say that you want to stay out of it, you are taking a side. The side of silence is the side of the abuser. The side of apathy is the side of abuse.

Abuse is all of our business. It affects all of us, whether directly or indirectly. Because we are all a part of a society that is responsible for it. And when a victim speaks out and makes an allegation — whether it be a formal one or not — it is our business, and it is our job to stand by that victim. It is our job to remind ourselves and those around us that abuse thrives on good people doing nothing, on good people saying nothing, on people deciding that people who are not them, especially those who are marginalized, are not really their concern.

It is Ewan McGregor’s prerogative to not comment on Polanski’s rape. It is all of our prerogative to stay quiet about any and all types of abuse, sometimes for even quite compelling and legitimate personal reasons. But we need to know and acknowledge and take responsibility for the fact that we are not neutral when we do so. And when we say that it is none of our business, we are not only letting victims down and allowing perpetrators to prosper, we are also lying through our teeth.

via Ginmar