by Cielle Waters - Umfleet
Nothing gets a feminismskeptic’s gears grinding like the MeToo movement, and nothing grates an exasperated woman’s ears more than a man playing devil’s advocate to a crime that robs people of their dignity. For me, my breaking point came one night when I was on Hour Two of arguing about social justice with a particular male relative. The topic switched from one odious argument to the next, at that moment something about “how males and whites aren’t actually privileged anymore because of Affirmative Action” or what have you. Once he had exhausted his complaints about college admissions and job hirings, he dropped the kicker: “If a woman wants to ruin my life, all she has to do is falsely accuse me of rape, and I’ll lose my job!” Two weeks of frantic packing and mounting anxieties about starting college, as well as my omnipresent feminist rage, burst forth in the form of my response. With a quivering voice, I replied, “I don’t give a damn about false rape accusations until we can punish real rapists in this country!” My cheeks and forehead boiled as an uncontrollable flood of tears sprang from my eyes. The scene blurred as I tried to comprehend his ignorance. Visions of the sexual assault survivors I knew, even from high school, flared in my memory. One had been drugged at a party. Another, physically forced by an upperclassman she knew. A third, due to her trauma, nearly attempted suicide. “If a man wants to ruin my life, all he has to do is actually rape me.” “No, I agree, rapists should be punished,” he offered from the safety of the couch. “What I don’t like about all this MeToo stuff is that accusation equals guilt. Men are losing their jobs and having their careers ruined over accusations that turn out to be false! I believe a person is innocent until proven guilty.” And so do I. Sexual assault cases in this country should follow the same precedents and procedures as any other crime. However, I also believe women (and men; everyone’s pain is valid) when they come forward with their stories. Why? Oh, it might just have something to do with the fact that no more than 8% of rape accusations are estimated to be false according to the FBI and possibly as little as 2%. In other words, 92-98% of accusations are true. And that’s just what is reported to authorities. While we can never know the actual number of rape and sexual assault cases occurring every year, a Stanford University article estimates that only around 40% of cases are reported. Based on the figures, that means out of all the rape cases in the world, somewhere between .8% and 3.2% of them are false accusations. And we still think most survivors are lying?
6
Relative of mine, I don’t remember much of what either of us said after that, or even if I could speak at all. All I remember is trembling, sobbing, and wanting to vomit out of frustration. Sure, it’s your prerogative to play devil’s advocate, but understand that this isn’t some mental exercise for me. At the end of the day, you can go to bed believing you’re in danger for being male, but I have to continue living in danger for being female. Your precautions involve giving women their space and holding back risqué comments; mine involve scanning for blue phones and texting my friends my location every time I’m out past nine. I know I probably wasn’t making cohesive arguments that day, but here I am, of level head this time, returning to say what I wish I would have then. Dear relative, this is what I wanted to say to you: First and foremost, a movement dedicated to empowering sexual assault survivors should not feel oppressive to you. This is a time of lifting up, of shedding chains, of breaking the silence. Nothing about that aims to undermine anyone. If you feel oppressed and endangered by women speaking out about men who wronged them, I can’t help but wonder why. Why would you be afraid of women using their voices? Except, perhaps, if you have wronged women in a way that would cause them to come forward against you? Now, I’ve known you my whole life. You always used to tell me and my brother as children how you’ve never thrown a punch. I can say with near certainty that you personally have never assaulted a woman. However, I also know your arguments aren’t original. Someone else put the idea in your head that you’re somehow suffering for the MeToo movement. As for them? I cannot say whether they have been in situations involving a power imbalance or unclear boundaries, a wandering gaze, a wandering hand. Perhaps those men have a reason to fear. Or maybe I’m reading into this too much. Do you really just believe that you could lose your job undeservedly due to a woman crying wolf? I suppose that’s fair. Unfortunately, it does happen, and it’s tragic when it does. While the chances are extremely slim that, first, you would be falsely accused, and second, that consequences would be implemented on you, I can sympathize with that worry. Let me guess: you feel powerless, unable to control what happens to you. You feel like the quality of your future is in the hands of someone else. Maybe you feel like you don’t know who to trust anymore, don’t know who might one day snap. And you know what? I feel the same way. Every time I go out alone, especially after dark, I assume some risk. I can’t predict what might happen to me, nor can I know if I will be able to fight anything off. I’m not weak, but what if he’s strong? What if there are more than one of them? What if they have drugs? And most terrifying is that, statistically, I’m more likely to be assaulted by someone I
