As those you who have been reading my blog in recent months know, I am a survivor of what the FBI classifies as the second most violent crime, the most violent crime that is survivable: rape. Not every victim of violence has the chance to be a survivor, whether that's because they are literally killed or because they lack the support they need to reclaim control over their lives, and that's why I can say that, though I have experienced one of the worst types of violence possible in this world, I am, in fact, quite fortunate.
That good fortune, that privilege, leaves me with a responsibility. I believe that I am obligated to help those who may not be so lucky: I must take action to prevent the creation of more victims and to help those who have already been victimized. One way to do the latter is to speak out about what happened to me so that others don't feel so alone, but my duty is not only in regards to rape but, rather, towards all forms of violence. This means taking political stands against it addressing it in the poems I write, and discussing it in my circles of friends and acquaintances. This means using the personal authority that I never asked for: it means speaking as a rape survivor, even though it's going to be uncomfortable at times and even though I fear that people might accuse me of trying to speak for every woman who has been raped, which is something it would be absurd to claim to do.
I would not ask this of anyone else, but I believe that I can do it, that I have the strength, and so I believe that I must.
I have opposed the war in Iraq since before it began, but I do so now with a stronger understanding of how extreme violence can poison an individual and with a more personal comprehension of the cycle of violence. The man who raped me had himself been victimized at some point; I myself, for several months, was full of murderous rage not just against him but against anyone who cared about or helped him. It didn't matter that I've always been a pacifist, that I don't even kill insects. And this is why I can't support any candidate who voted to authorize war in Iraq or to fund it. No excuse will ever be good enough, just as no excuse will ever erase what was done to me.
It's also a major reason why I support Dennis Kucinich's efforts to establish a Cabinet-level Department of Peace and Nonviolence, which would work towards peace both at home and abroad:
Peace is a foundational principle of this Congress and of this country and the bill gives it a chance to have an animating power in our civic life by addressing the issues of domestic violence, spousal abuse, child abuse, violence in the schools, and racial violence.
All of the concerns we have both domestically and internationally: peace.
That good fortune, that privilege, leaves me with a responsibility. I believe that I am obligated to help those who may not be so lucky: I must take action to prevent the creation of more victims and to help those who have already been victimized. One way to do the latter is to speak out about what happened to me so that others don't feel so alone, but my duty is not only in regards to rape but, rather, towards all forms of violence. This means taking political stands against it addressing it in the poems I write, and discussing it in my circles of friends and acquaintances. This means using the personal authority that I never asked for: it means speaking as a rape survivor, even though it's going to be uncomfortable at times and even though I fear that people might accuse me of trying to speak for every woman who has been raped, which is something it would be absurd to claim to do.
I would not ask this of anyone else, but I believe that I can do it, that I have the strength, and so I believe that I must.
I have opposed the war in Iraq since before it began, but I do so now with a stronger understanding of how extreme violence can poison an individual and with a more personal comprehension of the cycle of violence. The man who raped me had himself been victimized at some point; I myself, for several months, was full of murderous rage not just against him but against anyone who cared about or helped him. It didn't matter that I've always been a pacifist, that I don't even kill insects. And this is why I can't support any candidate who voted to authorize war in Iraq or to fund it. No excuse will ever be good enough, just as no excuse will ever erase what was done to me.
It's also a major reason why I support Dennis Kucinich's efforts to establish a Cabinet-level Department of Peace and Nonviolence, which would work towards peace both at home and abroad:
Peace is a foundational principle of this Congress and of this country and the bill gives it a chance to have an animating power in our civic life by addressing the issues of domestic violence, spousal abuse, child abuse, violence in the schools, and racial violence.
All of the concerns we have both domestically and internationally: peace.
- Mood:
determined - Soundscape:KQED