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About Elea Lee

Foster parent, adopting parent, family advocate, educator, homeschool parent

Televising the Language of Sexual Aggression 

Years ago I believed the cotton-candy fiction that it was enough for incest survivors, child abuse victims, and rape victims to just tell someone your story.

After 8 years of practicing this advice on behalf of the victims of intimate crime, I can say it is not enough.

If you tell your story, you will be marginalized, ostracized, judged.

If you tell your story, little or nothing will happen to your abuser.

If you tell your story, you still might not be able to stop the abuse…

…ostensibly because it is more fiscally and emotionally economical to ignore abuse than to intervene.

Which is why the recent statements made by American celebrities Stephen Colbert and Bill Maher (about oral sex and incest respectively) are all the more transgressive.

In making these comments both men display a complete disregard for the position of  sex crime survivors and perpetuate the connection between anger and rape culture. 

Many of us were denied consent in this process. We did not watch either show but were nonetheless exposed without  consent to the barrage of media with explicit descriptions of comments laced with both anger and intent to shock and offend.

Shock is a function of trauma.  Our minds buffer traumatic events with shock. When we cease to be shocked by what is trauma-inducing, we allow these things to become commonplace, accepted.

Yet it is categorically unacceptable for men  of power and privilege to use their position in front of a national audience to transmit language that is verbally abusive and supportive of rape culture.

I understand that both Colbert and Maher disqualified protective language they would have extended to Clinton or Obama (and their daughters) because anger now fuels their discourse on Trump.

However in the process they have exposed a frat-boy, locker room mentality which not only has no place in intelligent dissent, it automatically signals to the already marginalized and disenfranchised victim of sexual crime-“you are not safe here.”

And that is shocking…or it should be.

Occam’s Holster

I am pretty sure oral sex has been a topic of word-slinging for thousands of years.

In order to write this I inventoried some of the times when it seems to have risen to the point of national political upheaval, and some examples emerged fast-

  • The Washington Post editor who chose to nickname the Watergate informant Deep Throat after a disturbingly famous film of the same name.
  • The lopsided “affair” between a young intern and William Jefferson Clinton.
  • Recent, renewed accusations against the mayor of Seattle concerning the sexual abuse of at-risk teenagers who are now fully articulate adult men….

Just to name a few.

Which raises some thorny questions.

Would Colbert have said the victim of the Oval Office hook-up was a holster for a member?  Would he have said the same about Bill’s spouse?  Or other world leaders?

I doubt it.

I admit that I simply won’t google whether the term Mr. Colbert used for oral sex was cobbled together by him or whether it was a lexical entity prior to all of this.

I kinda don’t want to know.

But what I do want to know is whether anyone has discussed all the linguistic implications of what Colbert said.

What we know from context is-

  • He was angry
  • He was not afraid to drag sign language users, primates, and concussion victims into the list of insults
  • Context clues as well as the purely derogatory “only thing good for” component of the reference to oral sex suggests non-consensual sexual contact more than a relationship of mutual affection between consenting adults

“Non-consensual” at least for those of us who had to read it in the morning paper.

Which is why I write.  I don’t have a problem with Colbert expressing his anger toward the President or disagreeing with him.  I have a problem with Colbert’s utter and complete insensitivity to countless sexual assault survivors of all ages and genders who have ever been forced into what Colbert describes…as a joke?

He doesn’t seem to have considered how his obscene and dehumanizing language about a power-uneven and sometimes non-consensual sex act might sound to any rape or sexual abuse survivor.

That, coupled with earlier sexually and racially charged terms for Asian Americans suggests Colbert may share the very same white-man-locker-room entitlement he claims to abhor in the President.

There are clearly many ways to perpetuate a rape-tolerant ethos. I just wish Colbert hadn’t shown us how.

A lexicon for grief

how many words for snow

how many words for rice or rain or storms

We humans and our specificity

Yet no words for listening 

Hearing you

Being there, holding on, loving you 

Looking into….

Oops!  Already well into 

Greeting card territory

When what a body needs is those…those

Ladies in the black organza 

Wailing in the streets.

Where are they?  When we need them so?

All those things we need them to

Do

Be 

Say, not say, feel

a new vocabulary 

Esperanto for grievers

Words for here I am with you (ret)

Just being here for you (ghurt)

You are not alone (hyop)

Breathing here with you (fppt…)

There are empty rooms and rooms for more

Make more. More for all the ways

I will be with you in silence

Letters strung together for the careful listener

Unspoken I am with you

Through the storm.

Stories small pebbly things

The previous night mother had attempted to make tea.  Tea then coffee, that was the plan.  In the little pre-packaged pouches provided by hotel concessions.

Upon inspection mother noted two nay, three things:

Advancing, almost marine rust on the warming plate

Water in the well from some previous occupant of the room

No heat, no perk 

So she reported it to the desk clerk, all the while noting the following-

A previous hotel encounter wherein a woman of rapidly advancing years has chided the desk clerk for a similarly broken coffee maker.

And the likelihood that somewhere, somehow, the night shift clerk possessed a hog, of the Harley-Davidson, not Charlotte’s Web variety.

He said they were all out of fresh coffee makers.

He said he would transmit her request for a new one to the day guy.

Who ended up being a woman of short stature.

Who said she would fetch a tall person to fetch a new one from a high shelf.

This leaving mother to picture the places in the hotel with high shelves and coffee makers

…as she returned to her room.

And talked to her lovely and prepossessing daughter approximately thus:

I was surprised you did not come to breakfast.

Well, in truth, it was because I knew you would bring back the good stuff.

I wanted you to come down because there was a family next to us. Grandparents, a dad discussing his absent son who was allowed to drive down on the highway.

He described the process the way you might describe throwing a child into deep water in order to swim–“eventually he stopped weaving and wobbling”-which of course makes one wonder about when he was “weaving and wobbling.”

Then the father called his son to breakfast-whisp of a boy with hair like a tornado-whoosh!

Knock on the door.

Daughter opens it to a young man, tall, dark, and handsome, like a prince in a fairy tale, only coffee maker instead of glass slipper.

He proffers the box, offers to install it. Mother says she can manage, not realizing that he is a prince, the door is a portal and that all along the coffee makers had carefully conspired to bring these two together.

To my esteemed humanist friend,

I confess

I was angry at first 

At real atrocities ignored and

fictions so promiscuously embraced

But then I thought heck

So what if she mixes her metaphors? Or fails to tally the cost 

Of a world unmoored by love?

Instead 

I have this one

Abiding, hypothetical

Question-

Haven’t you ever been afraid that this triune omnipotent

God of love 

Might be just like 

Dustin Hoffman in the penultimate 

scene of The Graduate?

Pounding on the outside

(yes, the outside)

of the church, calling your name as you

Marry the wrong guy?

And if you do-

(what if you do!?)

Who will be there

By your side on the bus to forever?

Tree King

The before and the not-yet

Become the metaphysical geography of a mid-afternoon discourse-

What is the last holiday of a person’s life?

Passover?  Kwanzaa?  Thanksgiving?  Cinco de Mayo?  Christmas?

Christmas-I know you love Christmas!

As do the trees

Poised as they are, impatient,

On the far tether of human reckoning

Waiting for the signal

To clap 

Clap before their King

Feminism for ordinary stones

After giving the human mothers ample time to choose

The-would-be-has-been-will-be-stone-mover turned to this sea of

quiet rocks

Paced among them

Raised his arms wide

And spoke words of life over them-

Sing, cry, stomp, holler, embargo, resist, advocate, articulate…raise 

these your newborn voices

for all these

very little girls 

curled without defense-

half-a-billion muted, crucial

Question marks

as each loses

one simple, brutal

Round of rock-paper-scissors

in this place we have marked “private”

then left alone.