My Story
I am gonna tell y’all about the day I saw my rapist’s name plastered on the front page of every newspaper in the country. November 27 started the same as any other day for me. I woke up to the sound of my neighbor vacuuming. Tired and irritated, I pulled the covers back over my head and pushed my ears into my pillow only to wake up to my alarm sounding five minutes later. It was 6AM time to start getting ready for work. I worked as a receptionist for a law firm, I was the only women who worked there. I turned on the radio and Eruption by Van Halen blasted over the radio. While I swayed to the beat I picked out a pair of pumps, a blouse and a skirt and laid it out on my bed. I walked into the tiny bathroom in my tiny apartment and splashed some cold water on my face. When I looked in the mirror, I could see the evidence of yet another sleepless night through the dark bags under my bright blue eyes. I pulled my long curly brown hair back into a tight pony tail. As I got dressed the dread of yet another long day of work washed over me. I left the
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apartment complex and hopped into my Pontiac to drive the daily trek of 10 miles to work. Staying Alive by the Bee Gees came on the radio, finally giving me the wake up I needed. I got to work at 7 and was greeted by my boss. “Hey Sammie!” my boss said, straightening the light blue tie of his business suit. My boss was a kind man he helped me out and offered me a job two years ago when I was a naive 28 year old on her last dollar. He was 35 with short black hair that never moved out of place and piercing green eyes that showed years of pain. “Hey John, it’s pretty chilly out there today, huh?” “Yeah, they say today will be the first snowfall of the year,” “Let’s hope not,” I sighed, as I migrated towards my desk. John and I parted as he walked into his office and I settled down at my desk. I sighed, turning on the smooth jazz that I was told must always be on in the front lobby. I straightened the files on my desk and began filing the new stack of paperwork sitting on my desk in the appropriate file. Before I knew it 11 O’clock had come and I saw John rush out of his office and right out of the door looking like he had just seen a ghost. An overwhelming sense of fear washed over me, in all the years I had known John I had never seen any problem he couldn’t handle. John came back into the office, he looked a bit calmer. “Sammie, can you call everyone into the lobby? I have an announcement,” John said solemnly. I nodded, as I reached for the loudspeaker that would transmit what I said through the speakers in every room. “Everyone please report to the main lobby for an important announcement,” I said softly into the speaker. Seconds later around twenty men in suits with ages ranging from 30 to 50 flooded into the lobby. As everyone settled down John began to speak. “I have some sad news to tell all of you,” he started as hushed voices predicted what this might be regarding.
John cleared his throat and continued, “At 10:55 Supervisor Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone were assassinated,” A unanimous gasp rose among all the men. Pure shock, that’s the only emotion I felt at hearing this devastating news. I had followed Harvey Milk’s career since he had been elected roughly a year earlier. Harvey Milk being the first openly gay man elected to public office had made tremendous leaps for the gay community. “I’m giving you all the rest of the day off to call your families and tell them you love them. In times like this it’s important to remember and cherish the things that we do have,” Everyone dispersed, gathered their things and began to file out of the door. I stayed where I was too stunned to move. Soon John and I were the only people left in the
office. “Are you okay Sammie?” John asked me with a concerned look on his face. “I’m stunned. Who could do such a thing?” I asked. “At this point you know as much as I do,” John paused as he struggled to find the right words to say. “Come on Sammie lets go home,” “OK, I’ll be right behind you,” I said, as I opened my desk drawer and placed the remaining paperwork neatly inside. “OK, I’ll see you tomorrow,” “See you tomorrow John,” After I sat in silence, staring at the wall for another minute I got my things together, turned off the radio and headed out the door. When I opened the door a gust of wind hit me and I immediately regretted not bringing a coat to work. I locked up behind me and headed to my car. I turned the heater on high and drove home with the radio off because my thoughts proved to be loud enough. The one question I just couldn’t get out of my head was “Who could have done this?” When I arrived home from a ten minute drive that felt like an eternity, I opened my door, headed straight for my bed and collapsed into the sheets. After I cried for at least an hour I pulled myself together and turned on the radio. The time read 12:30. I switched the channel to the news station, hoping to get further insight on what had happened. After some static I heard the familiar voice of Carl Kasell. “Hello you’re listening to All Things Considered and this is Carl Kasell bringing you an update about the assassinations in San Francisco. We now know that Supervisor Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone were killed in the city hall by a police service revolver. The shooter has been identified as former supervisor Daniel James White,” I gasped immediately and turned the radio off. The reference of this familiar name had brought back emotions that I thought I buried years ago. I knew Daniel White many years ago. We went to high school together. Daniel was the popular star athlete and I was the introverted freshman. Daniel and I didn’t run with the same crowds, he was always the cute junior that I’d never have a chance with. Until one day I was walking alone in the hallway on my way to the bathroom when I bumped into him. Literally, bumped into him. I was mortified. “I’m so sorry,” I said, as I rushed to pick up his books that I’d knocked out of his hands. “My fault,” he said nonchalantly. “Sammie right? I’ve seen you around,” I was ecstatic that someone like him would even know my name I replied, “Yeah that’s me,” “You’re very pretty,” he said, brushing some hair away from my face. I blushed turning away. “I better get back to class, my teachers expecting me,” “Come on Sammie don’t you want to be friends?” he asked. “Yeah it’s just that-” I stammered. “Don’t worry I’ll get you back to class,” he said as he took my hand. I began to get very uncomfortable, I tried to pull my hand out of his grasp but he just held on tighter. “Don’t you know who I am?” he asked, angry. “You’re lucky that someone like me would even pay attention to someone like you,” he said as he pulled me towards the stairwell. “Get off of me,” I pleaded, my voice shaking. He stopped talking and took off my clothes and his and started to rape me with his hand over my mouth. It hurt so badly. I bit his hand, which caused him to instinctively pull it away. When I saw my opportunity I yelled as loud as I could. Mrs. Montgomery, my English teacher ran over as he smacked me across the face. “Get off of her!” she yelled. “She was asking for it,” he said unapologetically. I sat silently as I sobbed. I was told to go back to class and that the situation would be dealt with. I never talked to anyone about what happened. Daniel got expelled from our school Riordan for violence. “Violence?” I asked myself. He raped me. No legal charges were ever brought against him as to not ruin his ability to be a professional athlete. I later saw him described in the San Francisco Chronicle as an “all-American-boy”. It made me sick. He even went on to become valedictorian of his class at Woodrow Wilson High. While he excelled I was left damaged. I could barely get out of bed in the morning, I failed classes I used to fly through. I distanced myself from all my friends. Everyone became aware of who the real Daniel James White was. A murderer. I decided to tell this story because of the infamous verdict of manslaughter in Daniels trial. I’m writing this because of the anger I have that yet again Daniel White got off with a slap on the wrist. Thank you for listening to my story.
Opening with the event of McKinley’s shooting and the man who shot him, Rauchway quickly zooms out, distancing us from the scene, reflecting on the political status of the President, who “in the instant before he was shot” had “stood at the peak of hi...
In “ ‘It Was Like All of Us Had Been Raped’: Sexual Violence, Community Mobilization, and the African American Freedom Struggle” by Danielle L. McGuire, McGuire begins her piece with a haunting tale of the rape of Betty Jean Owens, that really illustrates the severity of racial brutality in the 1950s. She depicts a long history of african-american women who refuse to remain silent, even in the face of adversity, and even death, and who've left behind a testimony of the many wrong-doings that have been done to them. Their will to fight against the psychological and physical intimidation that expresses male domination and white supremacy is extremely admirable. The mobilization of the community, and the rightful conviction of the 4 white men most definitely challenged ideologies of racial inequality and sexual domination, and inspired a revolution in societal
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In an expressive voice, Ms. Angelou paints a memorable picture of a small black community anticipating graduation day fifty-five years ago. She describes the children as trembling "visibly with anticipation" and the teachers being "respectful of the now quiet and aging seniors." Although it is autobiographical, an omniscient voice in the first six paragraphs describes how "they" - the black children in Stamps - felt and acted before the omniscient voice changes to a limited omniscient narration in the seventh paragraph. Her eloquent voice skillfully builds the tension as she demonstrates bigotry destroying innocence.
Life for most homosexuals during the first half of the Twentieth century was one of hiding, being ever so careful to not give away their true feelings and predilections. Although the 1920s saw a brief moment of openness in American society, that was quickly destroyed with the progress of the Cold War, and by default, that of McCarthyism. The homosexuals of the 50s “felt the heavy weight of medical prejudice, police harassment and church condemnation … [and] were not able to challenge these authorities.” They were constantly battered, both physically and emotionally, by the society that surrounded them. The very mention or rumor of one’s homosexuality could lead to the loss of their family, their livelihood and, in some cases, their lives. Geanne Harwood, interviewed on an National Public Radio Broadcast commemorating the twentieth anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, said that “being gay before Stonewall was a very difficult proposition … we felt that in order to survive we had to try to look and act as rugged and as manly as possibly to get by in a society that was really very much against us.” The age of communist threats, and of Joseph McCarthy’s insistence that homosexuals were treacherous, gave credence to the feeling of most society members that homosexuality was a perversion, and that one inflicted was one to not be trusted.
It was a glorious April 4th evening as Martin Luther King and hundreds of followers were gathering for a civil rights march. Many cheered on as the civil rights leader graciously out step on the second floor balcony of the Motel Lorraine. Roaring cheers rose from the crowd rose up as Martin Luther King stand there waving his arm with his heart warming smile waiting for the uprising taper off so he can continue with his speech. When suddenly a piercing blast broke the noise and the crowd’s cheerful spirit died. A cold chill went through all who were present fore in the back of their minds there was no doubt that their King had just been shot.
Sexual violence can happen to anyone. In fact, one out of every six women has been the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime. Although, it is women who are targeted most often, it is important to understand that rape can occur to any person, regardless of various factors such as age, race, sex, ethnicity, and sexual orientation. What many people do not ponder is that most of the time when a woman is raped, she is actually blamed for the assault. As Aosved mentions in her article titled, ‘Co-occurrence of Rape Myth Acceptance, Sexism, Racism, Homophobia, Ageism, Classism, and Religious Intolerance’, she states
Harvey Milk said, “If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door.”(Aretha 83). Harvey Milk was the first gay politician that moved people’s hearts. He changed the way people thought about gay people back in the 1970’s. Defending homosexuals from criticism, he civilized them with the people. Since the background of homosexuality was harsh which affected Harvey Milk’s early life, he took the action to process of becoming civilized as an officer, and he left many legacies.
In the 1970s, feminists coined the term Rape Culture. The term is a combination of Rape, a form of sexual assault involving sexual penetration without consent, and Culture, the ideas, customs, and social behavior of society. When put together, Rape Culture comprises of a collection of beliefs that encourage sexual aggression and supports violence against women. Rape Culture allows the justification of rape and allowing rape to flourish. While some find it difficult to identify elements linked to Rape Culture, the examples below will highlight everyday occurrences that show its prevalence.
The Merriam Webster dictionary Defines rape as “unlawful sexual activity and usually sexual intercourse carried out forcibly or under threat of injury against the will usually of a female or with a person who is beneath a certain age or incapable of valid consent because of mental illness, mental deficiency, intoxication, unconsciousness, or deception”. Rape seems like an act that an individual would never think of committing. However, rape happens every day in many different instances, and what's worse, the excuse for certain rape cases. In my paper I'll be breaking down the social issue of rape through the structural functionalism theory, the conflict theory, and the symbolic interactionism theory. With the conflict theory I'll be examining
Foucault asks "What are the links between these discourses, these effects of power, and the pleasures that were invested by them?" (Foucault, 11). In the case of New Jersey governor it seems clear that power, language and pleasure were very much related in his speech on August 13, 2004, in which he announced his resignation, that he had had an affair with a man, and that he was a "gay American." A man in a position of power was both given power and gave power to the general public with his announcement. Consequently he opened up a multiplicity of discourses on the matter ranging from the true reason for his resignation, to the true meaning of the word Gay, to the effects that his coming out would have on the gay community. The case of governor McGreevey showed how language can be powerful, helpful and harming all at the same time, furthering Foucault's suggestion of strong links between discourse, power and pleasure.
Rape and rape culture have been a longstanding issue in American society. Looking at modern influences such as the media, our nation’s history, and the way our Consider the following: How has rape culture evolved through our history? What role does the media play in rape culture? And most importantly, how has rape become institutionalized in American society?
1 in 5 women will experience sexual assault as an adult (cite). To me, that statistic is mindboggling. I’m not sure people are really aware of the fact that in our society women are raped every single day or maybe they are aware but it doesn’t truly affect their lives until it happens to them or someone they know. Rape is a serious crime. I’m not sure there is a worse crime than rape. Rape is when one person violates the personal space of another. More times than not the attacker is male and the victim is female. With rape not only are you at risk of pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases but also your piece of mind is taken away. Women can experience symptoms of PTSD after being raped. Rape is crime where the act in itself is awful, but also dealing with it after is very painful as well. If our society were more knowledgeable about rape maybe it wouldn’t happen as much. Knowing the difference between the different characteristics of a serial rapist versus a single victim rapist could potentially help women or men identify their attacker, if they know what to look for. This may be more of a struggle for if the attacker is a stranger or a one-time offender, but if women are able to give details about their attack, this could help the criminal justice system find these criminals after the fact. In this paper, I will explain and critique three different studies that were conducted comparing and contrasting serial rapists and single-victim rapists.
Imagine you are a 28 year old woman, and have been working for a Wall-Street bank all day. You decide to go on a run in Central Park to wind down your day. It is a cool evening. The air is lush and Central Park breathes with the energy of New York. It is April 19th, 1989. You start your run off strong. Halfway through your run, you turn a corner and a man steps out from the shoulder. He strikes you with a tree branch. You realize he is dragging you. Everything spins. You cry out for help and howl with pain. You hit your attacker around the face. There is a struggle, but he easily overpowers you. He takes off your clothes and binds your wrists to you head. The blows do not stop. Everything goes black. When you wake up, you are in the hospital and are told you have been raped, and severely beaten. You suffered severe hypothermia, blood loss, a fractured skull, and have been in a coma. You cannot remember what happened that night and you do not remember the attack. You feel alone, ostracized, and overwhelmed. Your physical injuries are nothing compared to the pain that dwells in your heart. This is the story of the Central Park jogger, and this is the reality of rape.