SAFER does not explicity work on issues of domestic violence. That said, rape can absolutely be a form of intimate partner violence, and both are fueled by the same set of disturbing social attitudes: a lack of respect for women and their bodies—or the perceived ownership of those bodies—and the acceptance of a kind of masculinity that reinforces and excuses violent behavior while also shaming men who may themselves be victims (just to name a couple). Rape and domestic violence also often receive the same, distressing response—the victim of assault, both physical and sexual, is often blamed. We’ve talked a lot about victim-blaming here, as it rears its ugly head in almost every rape case you come across, and that’s one of the many reasons I wanted to share this piece by Elizabeth Mendez Berry. [I want to mention up front that Mendez Berry deals specifically with issues of race that I'm not really dealing with here---please read her whole piece, it's really smart and powerful and I'm not addressing some of what is really at the heart of her writing.]

I’ve tried to keep quiet about the Rhianna/Chris Brown assault case. [note: Ashley did discuss it here shortly after the news broke, and I recommend checking out her thoughts on bystander behavior.] For one thing, I’m generally bothered by the lack of privacy given to celebrities when it comes to their personal lives, especially in cases like these, and for another thing I think it’s pretty gross to sit back and watch a serious issue get exploited so that people can sell magazines, get website hits, etc. But mostly, as soon as the reports of assault started coming in, I knew that the discussion would get ugly fast. And sure enough, they did. While initially everyone expressed outrage over Brown’s actions, as the case unfolded more and more people started switching gears: What if she hit him first? Why on earth is she staying with him? It is her actions that are ultimately called into question.

We say a number of things without thinking because they seem so intuitive. If you hit someone, you should expect to get hit back. If someone abuses you, leave them. If you stay, you shouldn’t be surprised if he hits you again. We also say things like, “well, what did she expect to happen, going out dressed like that late at night?” See the similarities?

Nothing is ever simple. As I’ve listened to women who I respect criticizing this famous young woman for (supposedly) choosing to stay with a man who hurt her, I think of the women who I respect who have criticized rape victims who haven’t gone to the police. As I read the comments made by Chris Brown fans who have pledged their support to the singer while finding different ways to blame Rhianna for what happened, I am hit with a chorus of voices that have said a million times in a million different ways, “she was asking for it.” Every choice a victim of abuse makes is complicated. When your abuser is a loved one—and unfortunately, he/she usually is—it is even more complicated. When we talk about these things as though there are clear choices, we do a disservice to the victim whose best interest we are supposedly acting in and we come dangerously close to victim-blaming.

The only choices that are clear are the choice NOT to harm your partner and the choice to support those who have been harmed in whatever way they need. We need to choose to discuss the issue, get educated, and not just talk about it after the fact, after someone is assaulted, raped, or killed. It’s good that this celebrity case has got people talking (even if the conversation is not where I want it to be) but now we need to keep people talking and steer the conversation in the right direction, tailor the conversation to our particular communities. As Mendez Berry points out, “Homicide is the second leading cause of death of African-American women ages 15-29″ and women ages “20 to 24, face the highest levels of relationship violence.” It was a problem before Chris Brown beat up Rhianna and it will continue to be a problem. Mendez Berry really sums up the issue better than I could:

In the month since the Chris Brown and Rihanna case broke, bodies of women killed by their current or former intimate partners have piled up. An ex-cop was just arrested for fatally shooting his former girlfriend in Brooklyn. A young mother in East New York was killed by her ex-boyfriend, who also shot her new girlfriend LINK. In Birmingham, Alabama a man stabbed his ex-girlfriend and her three housemates to death. A woman in Michigan was shot and killed by her estranged boyfriend. In Tennessee, an 18-year-old wife was murdered by her husband. An angry ex in North Escambia Florida murdered a pregnant 19-year-old and her boyfriend. In Atlantic City County, a man stabbed his girlfriend to death and then set her condominium on fire, killing himself. An 18-year-old cheerleader was murdered by her boyfriend in Charlotte. On average, three women are killed each day by their current or former romantic partners. Those are just a few cases from the past week.

Though they weren’t profiled in People, these women are more than statistics. They are daughters, sisters, mothers, and they were shot, choked, stabbed, and burnt to death by men they dated or married. But just like there will always be people who believe that victims of police brutality deserved it, there will be those who blame victims of relationship violence for “getting themselves beaten.” Blaming the victim absolves the abuser and isolates the individual case, making it easier to ignore the pattern that connects these deaths. Back in that room at Stevenson High School, the obvious response to violence against women for a group that had grown up in its shadow was clear: laugh it off, justify it, pretend it didn’t affected you. For women in particular, there’s a strong incentive to believe that you will only be attacked if you provoke someone, and that the women who get hit deserve it. If you ackrite, as Dr. Dre used to say, you’ll be fine. But there was a young man in that room who had lost someone he loved, and he wasn’t buying the bravado. He knew that she didn’t deserve to be murdered by the man who shared her life and her bed. The other young people in the room knew it too, but in that intimidating environment, it was easier to act tough than to admit to shedding tears just a few years before when your father beat your mother. There’s a lot of pain, a lot of baggage that needs to be unpacked in order to really heal, but it has to be done. Recent FBI stats on intimate partner homicide, from 2005, show that 1181 women and 329 men were killed by their intimate partners that year. So we can keep hypothesizing about who hit whom first in the Brown/Rihanna case or we can start dealing with reality. Relationship violence is killing our communities.

Ignoring it won’t make it go away.

This is pretty awesome. You can check it out on the Security on Campus website, here.

This story is interesting. Mass. senator John Kerry (oh, John Kerry…what might have been!) is requesting asylum for a gay Brazilian man who married an American citizen in MA. Thanks to the Defense of Marriage Act, the U.S. does not need to recognize gay marriages, and thus unlike heterosexual immigrants, Genesio Oliveira cannot obtain residency based on his marriage. Even though he is legally married.

This is an asylum issue becayse Oliveira claims he was raped by a doctor as a teenager and “feared persecution [in Brazil] because of his sexuality.” According to the Boston Globe:

Although Brazil bans discrimination against gays and lesbians, attacks against them persist, according to the US Department of State. In a report issued last month, the department said at least 186 people, mostly gay men, were killed last year in Brazil because of their sexual orientation, an increase from 116 in 2007.

Frankly, I am not clear on the details here, like the exact connection between the rape and the fears of discrimination, but it is worth noting that part of the reason that a judge denied Oliveira’s initial appaeal for asylum was not because he found Oliveira’s fears to be uncredible, but because he was “was never physically harmed” by the rape. Kerry, rightly, called this statement “outrageous” and has appealed to the US District Attorney on behalf of Oliveira. Kerry is also a co-sponsor of the Uniting American Families Act which would extend residency laws to gay couples with “permanent” relationships.

Whether or not this case is really about rape, immigration and marriage equality, or all of the above, the notion that this man’s rape did not harm him “physically” and as such is less of a crime in some way…well that’s shocking. Did the man need to be brutally tortured in order for his rape to be taken seriously? Does the “lack of physical harm” somehow imply consent? Would this be different if he was a woman? Does the concept of psychological and emotional harm not apply to men? It reminds me of returning soldiers who are treated for physical injuries, but not PTSD. I think this shows a serious lack of understanding about rape in general–yes, rape is a physical violation that can be accompanied by intense amounts of physical pain and can cause lasting physical damage. But what about someone who is raped while they are passed out, with no feelings and no memory? Is there a lack of physical harm there, and is that at all relavant to the issue at hand? No, of course not. Lack of consent is physical, but it’s also, obviously, an incredibly psychological and emotional issue. I can’t even begin to list the reasons why, and I shouldn’t have to. Neither should John Kerry.

As I continue to try to make some sense of my visit to Colombia and the implications of everything I saw there, I’ve been going through the notes I took… An excerpt:

I’m struck by the fact that, without prompting, almost everyone we talk to here tells us why they have hope. For Lilia, a peace activist who lives with constant death threats, it is “the people who keep hope when there is no good reason.” For a priest and activist we met today, it was our presence. He told us the simple fact that a group of Americans showed up to see him gave him hope that the world wants peace. It seems that everyone we speak to, from the activists we have been meeting to people on the street, has thought deeply about hope and how to preserve it. It is, quite simply, the urgent question for many of them. And the sense of hope that has been cultivated is central to the social justice efforts I’ve seen here. Without it, they would not exist.

Maybe when you’re faced with real despair, you don’t have the luxury of cynicism.