In the summer of 2023, I worked for the second largest prosecutor's office in the nation and became an active participant in the Chicago criminal court system. I wasn't in a downtown office – more in the northwestern part of the city and on the outskirts – but the courts were still filled with violence and crime like I'd never seen or understood in my life. It was full of. Every day was filled with inequality and disturbing incidents.
I have a thousand different stories about my work as a judicial intern at the State Department and the types of cases, defendants, and complaining witnesses I saw. But nothing stuck with me more than what was simply expressed in words. I didn't see it with my own eyes. Thank God I didn't. I don't think I could have handled it better.
At the time, I was recovering from a particularly harrowing judgment with a boss and mentor. Despite the 911 calls he still hears in his dreams and first-hand testimony from first responders and nurses, the defendant was acquitted of 13 counts of sexual assault and rape. The judge said the prosecution witness was too shaky on the stand. She didn't speak any English.
I became visibly upset and distraught when my mentor started telling me that this wasn't the worst sentence she'd ever seen. She told me about a time when she was working on a case involving the rape and assault of a 12-year-old girl. In Illinois, if a crime occurred when you were under the age of 13, you are not required to appear in court or testify.
My mentor told me during oral argument that the defense's entire case was based on the testimony of a 12-year-old boy's promiscuity and mature appearance. In an aside with the lawyer, my mentor recalled that the judge had asked if the 12-year-old boy actually looked over 18 years old. The defense attorney said yes, and she said she once joked that the girl was asking for it. Because she looked old enough.
The defendant in that case was acquitted.
Blaming women, or girls, for their actions because of what they were wearing or where they were remains a valid legal defense. And victim blaming remains a deeply ingrained part of the rape culture we all live in.
But, of course, instead of teaching the men in our community – our brothers, sons, fathers – not to rape, not to lay hands on others, we teach women to embrace rape culture. We are continuously teaching them how to behave inside. We teach them what not to wear, where not to be, what not to drink, how not to behave. We teach them the complex dance of navigating between authority and respectability. Choreography is passed down from woman to woman, from generation to generation.
They say don't ask for it. Don't put yourself in a situation where a man puts his hands on you.
Why are they messing with us in the first place?
I could write an entire column about how we need to teach people not to rape, and why we need to teach children, and adults, about consent, but I don't want to teach people consent. You're probably just shouting into the gap between the opinions of your fellow columnists who are trying so hard to get it. Listen to those people.
Sure, I may be shouting into the void to some extent, but I want to take a different approach to the conversation about rape culture. I would rather argue that we should stop sexualizing our sisters. We have to stop objectifying the actions of all women and all people. Until we achieve this, how can we expect people to see women as human beings rather than objects of sexual gratification?
I want to make it clear that being sexual is not a bad thing. Your worth, legitimacy, and respectability should never depend on your sexual promiscuity, just as it should never depend on your race or sexual orientation. Sexual liberation is a beautiful thing and I hope we can all achieve it. But sexual liberation cannot be achieved until we all achieve it. And it cannot be achieved until the sexualization and fetishization of certain groups ceases.
Girls who reach puberty too early are objectified and sexualized. Like the girl in the story, who was never redeemed, they are often seen as “asking for it” even though their hormones are completely out of their control. In the eyes of white supremacy and patriarchy, Black and Indigenous women are considered worthless and “unrapable.” Asian women are considered “sexually submissive.” Bisexual women are considered “promiscuous” and lesbians are seen as existing only for men's sexual fantasies. Sex workers are seen as lacking any respect, and therefore their stories of assault are “not justified.”
When all these groups are objectified, their stories of sexual violence are no longer received in the same way as white women. Their sexualization reportedly ultimately led many white feminists to work to dismantle rape culture.
One in three Indigenous women has been raped in her lifetime, mostly at the hands of white men who feel they are responsible for their Indigenous bodies. One in four black girls is sexually abused before she is 18 years old. Bisexual women are twice as likely as heterosexual women to experience sexual violence or intimate partner violence. One in two transgender people has been sexually assaulted in their lifetime. And globally, sex workers have a 45-75% chance of being sexually assaulted on the job.
White feminism positions middle- and upper-class white women and girls as the face of the anti-rape movement. And while their stories matter, so do the stories of others who don't fit the white feminist martyr profile. If we're going to move forward with an inclusive lens of feminism and recognize the intersectionality that race, sexuality, and other socio-economic factors have on gender, we need to realize that the hypersexualization of certain demographics is part of rape culture. need to be aware of how it is affecting them. If we don't address this issue, we're not doing anything to dismantle the systems that keep men getting away with heinous acts.
There's a famous quote, attributed to no single author or activist, that essentially says, “When you're used to privilege, equality feels like oppression.”
We examine the interconnected systems of oppression that contribute to rape culture and how the targeting of racial and sexual minorities, or other specific demographics of women and girls, contributes to this reinforcement. We must understand and highlight how we contribute to All issues faced by women are feminist issues, not just issues faced by white women. Elevating the voices and stories of racial, sexual, and socio-economic minorities does not diminish the voices of others. Rather, it helps each of us.
Rape culture is continually fueled by the “blame the victim” mentality that many people fall into. The words “she asked for it” should no longer be used as a valid defense. We must not only teach our communities not to rape, but also actively work to remove prejudice against certain groups of women and eliminate sexual discrimination among these groups. Until then, rape culture will continue to function prominently. We can no longer dance within that framework. Rather, the entire system must be completely destroyed.
Livia Lamarca is a deputy editor at the Opinion Desk, but she's not good at using Oxford commas. She primarily writes about American political discourse, American pop culture, and social movements. Share your own opinion with her by emailing lll60@pitt.edu.
