The past few days I haven’t been able to scroll through social media without being bombarded with headlines about Brock Turner, the Stanford student who raped an unconscious woman on campus being sentenced to a mere 6 months in county jail. That alone sparked outrage across my Twitter feed and Facebook timeline. But no, it got worse, with Turner’s father defense that his son was too harshly sentenced for “20 minutes of action.” The entire spectacle is just maddening and infuriating, to say the least. There’s no question about it: I’m furious. I’m beyond furious.
But I’m also tired. I am so damn tired.
I am tired of opening my social media feeds every week to find a new story about rape on college campuses. I am tired of meeting friends to catch up for coffee, only find out they’d been sexually assaulted over the weekend at party.
I am tired of debating with friends and family about whether or not rape culture still exists. I am tired of having to nod politely when family members or family friends try to explain to me that rape culture isn’t as much of a ‘big deal’ as we make it out to be because it’s been happening on college campuses since they were in college. I am tired of trying to explain that the number of false rape accusations is incredibly tiny—almost negligible—compared to the number of rapists that walk free, so no, it’s not a valid argument to make against mandatory expulsion for rapists on college campuses.
I am tired of feeling that sinking feeling every time a student raises their hand when I explain consent to ask, “Yeah, but if she’s drunk it’s still consent.” I am tired of seeing pre-teen girls internalizing the victim blaming and sexism thrown at them daily by peers and adults alike, already policing their own and their peers’ actions with sharp eyes and sharper tongues, because they think it’s the only way to protect themselves from degradation.
But I probably don’t need to tell you this. I think every feminist, every college aged woman, every mother, every friend, every sexuality educator, is tired. It’s an exhausting time to be fighting for women’s rights to their own bodily safety and integrity.
So many times, in so many different circles, I hear rallying cries of, “Don’t get tired, get mad!” or “Yeah, we might be exhausted, but the rage burns on!” And they aren’t wrong. The rage does burn on. I truly am mad. But, to be honest, I’m starting to get more tired and more angry at how we’re reacting to rape case after rape case after rape case.
I’m angry that we’re still talking about this with our vitriol aimed at individuals, instead of the system. When it comes to rape culture, there are so many systems we could be focusing our energy (and anger) on. These days, I’m finding myself more and more angry at the sex education system and its failure to prevent rapists from developing.
I went through high school not too long ago, and I remember a lot of what I learned (the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell anyone?), but there’s one thing I distinctly don’t remember: learning about consent, rape, or negotiations in a relationship.
Maybe it’s time we stop reacting and start acting. Maybe it’s time we start acting proactively. Yes, we need to address all the horrible atrocities being perpetrated right now. But we also need to change the way we teach our children how to think about and talk about sex, consent and rape. Let’s stop causing the problem instead of just wringing our hands about it.