I'm confused about how I feel about Chris Brown.

I recently read some anti-Chris Brown playing the Grammy posts, most notably I'm Not Okay With Chris Brown Performing at the Grammys and I'm Not Sure Why You Are on Hello Giggles. I can't say I disagree with anything stated in the article, because I really don't. The article is mostly on-point. But my retort to this question is "Why Do We Care So Much About Chris Brown But None of the Other Domestic Violence Perpetrators in Hollywood?"

I'm not going to be presumptuous and assume that the author doesn't care about those things, because I am certain she does, so the question really is aimed at white-bred feminism at large. Why does Chris Brown particularly offend us so much, and yet I have witnessed people laugh at and take someone like Charlie Sheen with a grain of salt? They'll deride Chris Brown and yet use the word "Winning!", the proud proclamation of an addict and misogynist who shows, in my opinion, way less mournfulness over his actions than Chris Brown (but I guess it's difficult to measure less than zero).

Is it because the victim, Rihanna, is so high profile? Is it because we like her music so much, while Brooke Mueller mostly resembles what privilege looks like in our society? Is it his age? Or maybe the fact that Chris Brown is a man of color?

I am not running out and saying people who think Chris Brown shouldn't be performing on the Grammys are racist. Not in the slightest. I do not want to be mistaken as apologizing for his behavior. But I think as a group we need to look at who we forgive using our consumer power and who we choose not to forgive. What both Chris Brown and Charlie Sheen did (oh and Christian Bale and Alec Baldwin and other people who have been connected to domestic violence have done) is not forgivable.

But the facts speak for themselves. Black men are criminalized without batting an eyelash in this country, while many of us question whether someone like Julian Assange is capable of rape because he is such a Valuable Person Who Contributed Valuable Things.

Truthfully, I do find it despicable that he is playing the Grammys, especially considering the connection the Grammys have to the altercation with Rihanna. I find it despicable that most of these men have careers in the public eye and are celebrated as people to look up to. Heros, even. I'm confused though about where our derision towards him is rooted from. I worry that sometimes a bit of it is a chunk of unchecked privilege and unaccounted for systemic racism that really criminalized Chris Brown even before he did this terrible, unforgivable thing.

I'm not leaving this post with a solution or even an answer to my own question. I'm just throwing this idea out there. With the way the criminalization of black men looks to me like a modern day version of slavery, as a white woman, I feel like I need to be more aware of where my feelings come from in situations like this. I don't see that discussion happening in the blogosphere.

Penn State protests: Who are the real victims?

One of the primary reasons I decided to go into social work was to find an outlet for my unwavering, sometimes inappropriate empathy. I have the ability to empathize with the “worst” of individuals—I won’t make a list of who, but there’s something about people doing terrible things that pulls at my heartstrings. How did they get to that point? How much hurt must they be experiencing to want to hurt others so badly?

From Deadspin.com

But sometimes my empathy is tested. This tends to happen most often when you throw privilege into the mix. Enter Penn State and the protests against the firing of Joe Paterno. Deadspin posted aslideshow of the “bros” long faces, highlighting that these kids are taking this seriously. Try as I might, I cannot take them seriously in return. A quick look through of the slideshow features, as a friend pointed out, primarily cis gendered white men. I’m assuming, and this is certainly an assumption, most of them are heterosexual. This is the battle they choose to fight. Nevermind the fact that there is actual Occupy Penn State action being organized, these kids decided the best thing to do was to protest against the justified firing of someone who turned a blind eye to children being abused.

I’m not saying that Paterno is the worst human being alive. I think Paterno was, however, acting to his own self-interest and to the interest of the Penn State community (or at least, the reputation or what he considered the interest of the Penn State community). However, it is my belief that fighting against child abuse and potentially preventing more children from abuse is worth some tarnishment to your reputation—a tarnishment that would have been much lighter than what he has to face now.

It’s also important to consider how this scandal would affect the survivors of Sandusky. Survivors of sexual assault often turn blame inward. Seeing the media portrayal of a school so upset over the firing of Paterno could potentially negatively affect these survivors. I can only imagine what would be going through their head—if only I hadn’t been there for Sandusky to abuse me, perhaps this trouble wouldn’t be happening. I hope, rather, that they are able to see what is happening as an example of why they are not at fault. The exposure of Sandusky and Paterno’s tight knit hold on the Penn State administration and the fact that there are several survivors may help the survivors conceptualize the severity of the situation and how out of their own control it really was.

But I can only hope. And as angry as I am at the Penn State protestors, I think it’s taking attention away from who the real victims are in this situation. It’s not these bro dawgs who are sad about losing their football coach. It’s the people who were severely and maliciously abused by Sandusky. There's some reasonable students at Penn State, fortunately, as seen in videos posted by Colorlines. I hope that while I can’t find empathy for them, that those protestors can find empathy for the survivors. 

Rape culture, and how it affects me (and probably my clients, too)

I haven't been able to pull myself away from the #MooreandMe dialog on Twitter, even though I have a final that I've barely started due in 24 hours. The whole thing to me is really remarkable and inspiring.

Warning: This post can be triggering to survivors of violence and sexual assault.

Also, a lil background on #MooreandMe:

• Naomi Wolf, Julian Assange Captured by World's Dating Police
• Sady Doyle (Tigerbeatdown.com) #MooreandMe: On Progressives, Rape Apologism, and the Little Guy

I decided to post about this after reading The Rotund's response to the all of this. Up until I read Kirby's post, I had a hard time putting my finger on why this is such a trigger for me (and how do I respond to triggers? I write about them and get angry on the internet, obvs). But then it dawned on me while I considered my own relationship and past with sexual assault.

Self-disclosure warning: I am no stranger to sexual assault. It's overwhelming for me to think about how many times I have been sexually violated/raped/molested in my life. It's to the point where I have a serious disconnect with my past. I speak with hardly anyone about it, not even my therapist. I, in an unhealthy way, consider it a non-issue; something I've moved on from. You know why? I barely can acknowledge what has happened to me as rape.

Every single assault I've experienced has been questioned by someone. When it was a family member, I must just be remembering it wrong. When it was a guy I hung out with in high school, I must have just been trying to get attention. When it was a guy I was in a monogamous relationship (or so I thought) and lived with, I must have just been bitter he broke up with me. Its not hard to believe that all of this questioning has led me to question it myself.

What Naomi Wolf and Michael Moore have done is no different from what those people who suspected I was lying have done to me. Let's say Assange didn't do it: does that make what Naomi Wolf said any better? No. Because she is still perpetuating the idea that it is okay to dismiss accounts of rape. And if Assange did do it? I don't know about you, but just because he's become the Poster Boy of Freedom and Truth does not mean someone he could have potentially raped should keep it under wraps until the U.S. gov't doesn't want a piece of him anymore. You know why? It's not their fault. If Assange did it and the government is using this as a convenient way to get what they want out of him, well, too bad, that is an entirely separate issue from the fact that he may have raped someone. If only they treated all rape cases this way.

If Assange didn't do it? Well, considering the world's track record of convicting people who ACTUALLY commit rape, I'd say he has nothing to worry about.

But, as The Rotund points out:

Assange’s innocence or guilt is not the current issue. It’s whether or not rape accusations are taken seriously. It’s whether or not women feel comfortable coming forward and talking about these things – to the police or to anyone else for that matter.

I have been profoundly impacted by rape culture and words that sound a lot like Naomi Wolf's. I have clients who say things like "It wasn't rape because he's my baby's father." THEY have been profoundly impacted by rape culture. Every one is hurt by rape culture. It is not to be apologized for. It is not "hooey." It is not simply the "dating police."

Naomi, as a survivor, I ask you to stop speaking for me. As someone who has experienced rape, I feel empowered by things such as #MooreandMe. I feel empowered knowing that there is a group of people out there who would be willing to fight for my right to be believed.

I will join that fight. I deserve to be believed. My clients deserve to be believed. And our culture needs to start honoring that.