Former Oklahoma City police officer Daniel Holtzclaw was sentenced to two hundred and sixty-three motherfucking years in prison. I feel it necessary to emphasize every single syllable of his conviction, grammar be damned. My breath caught in my throat as I read a report of the verdict and court events, and still every time I see it, it's a fresh wave of emotion.
I will never make any attempt to conceal my status as a survivor of sexual assault and rape; the shame of that status is not mine to bear. Seeing news articles around the subject recall certain sentiments and personal memories. While I'm able to get a good handle on flare-ups in the majority of situations, I can imagine a good portion of survivors can not.
After I told my story at the Vagina Monologues, I remember my campus mailbox filling with cards of support and confession from fellow survivors. Most of them weren't signed. Their stories flash through my head every time someone writes off survivors' testimony. I still wonder how they're doing, years later. Are they wading through this current cultural fascination with sexual deviance, sanity intact? What does this and other discussions sound like to them? What are the implications of the social conjecture surrounding the accusations of celebrities being sexual aggressors, especially in situations that will not or can not be tried in court?
If they're stuck silent, if they're considering pressing charges, if they are waiting for a judge's sentence, or, like me, if they have had their perpetrator sentenced to jail time, still, there's no point in the process of absolute safety, not even a maximum sentence. I thought I had it, but a few years ago, a parole hearing tested me more than I could have anticipated. That negative little voice will always have something to offer, whether a discouraging scream or a subtle, derailing whisper. Let intuition ring louder, celebrating the fact that you've made it this far and that it's okay to trust again.
Even as I consider the silent confessions I know, I am implicit in forcing them to deal with the topic and surrounding rhetoric. I can't help wanting to scream this conviction from the rooftops. It is devastating to be distrusted with information so sensitive, but vindication, permanent avoidance of your perpetrator, and justice are all excellent pieces of beginning to find the pieces of your sanity after surviving chaos.
I don't know how those women felt when the verdict was read. I was twelve years old at the sentencing hearing, and I remember a strong priority for finally finishing one of the most heinous reasons to be missing seventh grade before the judge's speech. I didn't understand the gravity of the event when it happened.
May some of that gravity be lifted from those women with this conviction.
