Everything Matters
Duke Rape Case Telling
By Patrice Gaines
Thursday, May 4, 2006

Now we wait for the trial of two Duke University lacrosse team members charged with raping one of two “exotic dancers” hired to perform at a team party in March. Since the allegations surfaced, I have watched and listened carefully, trying to decipher what has changed in the 35 years since I was raped.

When I was 22 years old, a known drug user, a convicted felon, and a single mother of an “illegitimate child,” I was raped and badly beaten by a man I had dated several times.

In 1971 the world had not uttered the words “date rape,” which gave new meaning to what was possible in relationships. As far as police were concerned, the sex between me and my “boyfriend,” even if it had been forced after a terrible beating, was none of their business. They allowed me to file charges against the man only because of the brutal beating. Their reluctance to acknowledge the sexual crime added to my confusion.

I was a young woman who saw little of worth in herself. This was not the first time I had been raped, yet it was the first time I had gone to the police. I hesitated this time also, only going after a friend demanded I go and sent her cousin to accompany me in the police station. I was reluctant because I heard in my spirit the resounding question: Does anyone—other than my parents—care that a person like me has been raped?

I already knew that society liked perfect victims. If the person raped is an exotic dancer, well, that complicates things, doesn’t it? There are people who believe an exotic dancer (or a drug using convicted felon) cannot be raped. They don’t say it out loud, but in the small space of their minds, this is what they feel: She put herself in that position with the life she lives and thus she deserves it.

This doesn’t mean that I shrug personal responsibility. I believe that ultimately we are responsible for our lives and for the decisions we make. But there are a lot of damaged people out there—men and women—who make these decisions with gaping sores in their souls. If you believe the sexual use of your body is your most valuable asset, this is what you will use, even as you try to change your life.

I was not surprised to hear that this young woman had filed charges before against three men she said raped her as a teen. It is not unusual at all for victims of rape, especially those who have been raped by men they know—fathers, friends, and uncles—to be raped again. Having been treated once as a sexual object, these young women often grow up to believe they are damaged or dirty goods. Or, an unconscious belief takes root: If men want to use my body, then I’m going to get back at them by using it myself to get things I need like a job, money, drugs or a college degree.

Of course, I don’t know the young woman in the Duke University case, so I can’t interpret with accuracy what these painful events in her life have meant. What I know all too well is our society’s reaction to “bad” girls. What is helping my heart continue its healing is the way many of the people in the Durham community have surrounded this woman with support. I hope that their putting arms around this young woman helps her to know without a doubt that she has worth and deserves to be treated with respect.

When I was raped, my accuser, like me, was Black and came from the same socio-economic level. The lacrosse players currently accused of rape are White and attend a college that has always been viewed as an elitist school. Race and class make everything more complex because of the perceptions we bring to both. I certainly didn’t have to contend with these variables in my case.

But what is consistent, what has not changed in 35 years is the belief held by many that only a “good girl” can be raped.

We may never know the real truth in this case. My hope is that those who sit in judgment during the trial do it based on evidence and not on the age-long, subtle and hidden belief that some lives are worth more than others.

 

Patrice Gaines is a career journalist and author of "Laughing in the Dark: From Colored Girl to Woman of Color --A Journey from Prison to Power” and “Moments of Grace.” She lives outside of Charlotte, N.C., where she is co-founder of The BrownAngelCenter, a program for women who have been incarcerated.