“I actually believe in a “Name your assailant day”, in which women go to police together, to support one another in filing reports. It doesn’t matter if you are outside the statute of limitations. You may not be able to prosecute your own abuser. But the report will be on the record.” — https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/oct/14/sexual-assault-report-women-culture-of-silence
Sexual assault.
Me too.
Is saying “me too” enough? Do males think it’s just a case of winking and cat-calling? Maybe we need to actually post some of this shit.
Trigger alert-I describe some incidents of sexual assault below.
I recall the many close calls I had–a groping by a family member in 3rd grade, a chase and boob grabbing incident by 3 boys in 6th grade, a knife pulled on me in 7th grade in someone’s garage, the 3 times I got into a car with the wrong man in my hitchhiking days, a masturbator in a car late at night while I was walking home alone, a friend and a family member who brushed my ass more times than could be accidental, the English dude who grabbed my boob as I was walking in Oxford, the asshole who reached out of his car window and smacked my ass hard enough to knock me off my bicycle as he drove by, the manager of the bar who asked me stay after work (at 3am) and get additional “training.”
But the one that haunts me is the camp director who “massaged” me regularly/vaginally/painfully when I was 14 and in the infirmary for 3 days after I had what I think must have been a mini-breakdown as a counselor-in-training at a well-known Jewish overnight camp. I froze and didn’t feel like I could leave the infirmary until he told me I could go. This man had regular access to young girls for so many years, and instead of reporting him, I put the incident away and tried not to think about it too often for the many decades that have followed although when I did, I stewed in shame, sorrow and suffering.
I reached out to someone I connected with on Facebook just a few years ago to see if she could recall his name and knew whether he was still alive. (I made it seem like I was looking for an old friend.) Yes, she knew his name, and yes, still alive. I did a little bit of digging and convinced myself that as an old man with a family, he couldn’t possibly be doing harm any more, and coming forward wouldn’t help anyone at this point.
If there was an annual national assailant day, would I have come forward? I don’t know, but it certainly would have been a reminder each year that I could.