Steubenville

When I was in my early 20s and single, I convinced my grandpa to give me the keys to one of his cabins in Island Park.  The Piper and I were going to a pig roast.  This was back in the day when we didn't just go to a party.  We PARTIED. HARD.

We ended up at the old A-Bar. This was back when I drank vodka collins, and as I was showing off my stupid human trick of being able to tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue in under 30 seconds, I noticed a girl almost passed out near a pool table.  Two guys were trying to get her up and she was getting pretty combative.  We'd watched her do a few shots, and her girlfriends appeared to be nowhere in sight.

My eyes got big, and I nodded at the Piper in her direction.  The boys had her up and were trying to get her out the door. We both sat our drinks down and followed them out the door without saying a word.  She didn't want to get in the car with them, so I went to the car and asked if we could give her a ride.  For a second, she was a little lucid and grabbed the Piper.

We got told to mind our own business.  One guy was her boyfriend or something like that.  "Then it shouldn't be a big deal if we give her a ride," I said.  "I'd feel a lot better about it.  No one wants the cops showing up with us all drinking and stuff." I said.

He got really pissy, and The Piper chested up.  Somehow, after lots of cussing, we ended up with this girl in the car, unable to tell us where to go, but she handed us a phone and gave us a name.  We met her friend at Pond's and transferred custody.  I never saw her again, but The Piper and I talk about that night a lot.  I'm convinced something bad would've happened to that girl if we hadn't made them let her go with us.

For the life of me, I cannot remember what she was wearing.  Since it was early September in Island Park, I assume she was dressed just like us and every other 20 something in the place.

I bring up this story, because I felt like I needed to talk to Sha about Steubenville. It seems like everyone out there is worried about how to talk to their kids about this.  Unfortunately, the conversations I had to have with my daughter regarding alcohol came at a very young age, and they both involved the death of people very close to both of us.  The third involved DARE, and we've been having them since.

I was very open with my kid during the DARE conversation.  I've done a lot of stupid shit in my life, and I was open about how I felt.  I was as honest as I thought I could be.  I told her point blank, alcohol will make you do stuff you NEVER in your life thought you would do, and sometimes, it makes people not remember a damn thing.

I told her about the girl in Island Park.  I told her about my own stupid stuff (some, not all).  I told her about girls in college who woke up in the morning mortified about what they had done.

I'm as pissed as off as everyone else out there at the newscasts telling us how two star athletes futures were ruined.  I'm as tired as everyone else with hearing how she was drank herself into that situation.

You know what?  As much as I hate to admit it, I found myself puking in the parking lot once while my friend Tom held my hair.  You know what humans do?  They do what he did, and called me a ride and waited with me until The Piper showed up.

THIS, THIS, is why we don't tell girls its what you wore, or what you drank.  I should be able to walk down the street naked as a jaybird, and THAT does not give anyone consent to do anything to my body.

I'm not shocked that Jane Doe was accused of being a slut.  I'm not shocked at the people who said she deserved it.  When I was in Girl Scouts, they taught us to carry our keys spread out between our freaking knuckles "just in case someone tried to grab us in a parking lot."  I've heard all the "don't dress like that" and "don't act like that" that I can stomach. I watched the Jody Foster movie and knew then how screwed up it all was.

What shocked me, and I mean shocked me, was the defense lawyer saying the young woman never said no.  What shocked me was that these young men said they didn't think it was rape.

NO ONE HAS TO SAY NO.   We are all entitled to sovereignty over our bodies and our sexuality.  You aren't invited to the party, stay the fuck out.  Its not that hard to comprehend. 

That young woman is an athlete and honor student, too.  What about her life sentence?  She decided to drink...at a party...with her peers and "friends."

When you tell me and my daughter how to carry our keys, how to aim for pressure points on an attacker, how to be fearful when its dark, you are telling me, and my daughter, that men and boys have no control.  THAT my friends, is just about as sexist as it gets. You are negating the actions of men like my friend Tom, or another friend who walked me home because we were both too drunk to drive, and saw me to the door...the one I tried to kiss who told me I was too inebriated for that.

You are sending a message that men are inherently evil.  Its not true.

I don't have male children.  I do have a father, a brother, nephews, cousins, and lots of male friends.  ALL who are decent human beings.

You know what?  That young woman was as drunk as many of us have found ourselves. The others appear to have had enough capacity to make a few decisions about what they did, and brag about it in front of the whole entire world. They get a minimum of a year in jail, which in my opinion, doesn't mean shit.  Its still all about them.  "My life is over", one sobbed as he fell into his attorneys arms.

You, sir, will not have to live with being called a SLUT for the rest of your life. Your lack of any sense of what you did, beyond taking a picture that was wrong, is insane.

We call India backwards when a young woman dies of gang rape; we condemn acid burnings in Afghanistan.  Yet, we continue to slut shame and victim blame in our own backyard.

That whole debate a few weeks ago about how if every woman carried a gun, rape wouldn't happen...just got shot in the ass.

Like I said, I don't have boys.  But I can guarantee you, if I did, the conversation starts, not with big words like consent, but a tiny, four letter one called love.

It starts with love and it ends with taking care of people.  People you don't know and people you do.  It involves the fact that just because someone else acted irresponsibly, doesn't mean taking a total leave of your senses.  It means respect.  It means having common human decency and not being shocked when you're a pariah because you show a total lack of it.

It means being a friend.

My daughter turns 16 in a week.  Every time I hear about this story, I think of her.  I can lock her in the house, tell her not to do this, not to dress like that.  Not to trust.

I believe in a better world.

All I can do is teach her to be the best human being and trust her to do it.  I'll still teach her to watch out and be aware.  But I will NEVER, EVER let her believe that because what she wore, or what she said, or because she had sex before, or, God forbid, gets blackout drunk, that somehow gives someone license to treat her as something to use.

I won't ever let her think men lack control.  Its time we stopped selling our men and boys short and making excuses for them when a small minority do fall.  Its time we let some boys know women aren't here to please or be used.

If its actually true, that those boys didn't know it was rape, which I'm not sure I believe, it says a lot about society in general, not just one small town with a football fetish.