Category Archives: sexual assault

They Aren’t All Rapists

I’ve known a lot of men in my life.  Good, bad, in between and yes I have known some who were rapists.  We’re not reminded frequently enough in the field of sexual assault services that they aren’t all rapists.  It’s a very small percentage yet over time I am noticing that the men I know now are feeling the sting of those rapists actions.

Those of us working for change spend too much time reading stats, reports, watching videos and basically saturating ourselves in who got raped, who did the deed and how we can try to change the environment to promote more reporting by those who have been victimized.  We go to training and workshops, review programs and look for innovative practices which means we hear a lot about how men are rapists and how evil they can be.  All true but a steady diet of this begins to make the men around me who are trying as hard as the women to improve things feel a little squirmy and weird.

In a survey answered by hundreds of rape and sexual assault support agencies, it is estimated that 93.7 % of rape perpetrators are male and 6.3 percent are female. (Greenberg, Bruess and Haffner, 575)  (http://ifritah.livejournal.com/211376.html)

Does that 6.3% mean that it’s really that small an amount of females who rape? No. Read the rest of this entry

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Logic and The Heart

I have a friend who misses something in the South. An unworkable situation tangled with regret and love and the knowledge that it can’t be made workable and life must go on as it is.  None of that stops the heart wanting what it wants, “Ulysses Everett McGill: Pete, it’s a fool that looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart.”  Truer words have never been spoken as I too have always missed people and things in the South: magnolias, soft summer nights, tea that is brewed as God intended and most of all my daughter.  Now she and her wife have given me two more people to miss. Twin girls to add to my list of things to cry about as I get out of the car at the airport to return to the dry beautiful elitism of Colorado.  Every time I say I won’t cry and every trip I do, just as I did every school year when I took Morgan to the first day of school and cried all the way to my school and then later work.  Leavings are just painful no matter what you do.

I grew up in Texas and while it’s different than Georgia (of course it is don’t be ridiculous!) it is also similar in many ways. Read the rest of this entry

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