This appeared in the Idaho State Journal in April of 2017. I continue to see media outlets making this terrible mistake, so I'm publishing it again.
An Associated Press story out of Sandpoint, Idaho appeared
in the Friday March 24, 2017 edition of the Idaho State Journal. The headline
read:
“Teacher accused of having sex with student heads to trial”
She was 46 at the time. The victim was 16. This is not a
case of two people “having sex.” As the article later says, she was charged
with sexual battery of a minor between the ages of 16 and 17.
An October of 2016 tagline in the Idaho State Journal read,
“Ex-Blackfoot soccer coach sentenced for sexual relationship with underage
player.” I’m not numb to the content of these stories, but here I’m choosing to
address the journalistic language. A “sexual
relationship”? That word choice implies
consent when the victim, who was 13 at the time, wasn’t of legal age to give
it. These cases and their victims
deserve for these incidents to be reported with accurate and appropriate
language.
Call it what it is!
Perhaps it's because my mother was a child protection worker
or perhaps it's because I’ve grown up to be an intelligent and reasonable
person who thinks any kind of sexual misconduct like this should never, not
ever, be minimized or mischaracterized. Misconduct. Battery. Abuse. Rape. Taglines
and phrases like "having a sexual relationship" or "the coach
and student had an affair" infuriate me almost as much as the offense
itself.
I’m not a survivor of child sexual abuse, but my childhood was
overwhelmed by it. I was guilted into gratitude in checkout lines when I’d ask
for a candy bar and the “no” was couched in a reminder of kids who had it worse.
As a fourth-grader, I accompanied Mom on trips to transport siblings from
foster homes to supervised visits with their biological parents. I waited in
hospital waiting rooms while rape kits were performed on children. Never tall
enough to reach the TV, I was often stuck watching grown up shows. I was stuck in a grown up show.
One night when I was in college and home doing laundry, my
mom got a phone call out of the blue from a man who had been in her caseload as
a preteen. He called from out of state to ask where he could get help. He
realized he was starting to engage in the same type of emotional and physical
abuse with his son that his biological father had with him. Through the course
of their conversation, he told my mom about sexual abuse he suffered during his
adolescence from his foster and later adoptive father. After his biological
father had been so terribly physically abusive, the young man was confused and
uncertain about boundaries and what a healthy love looks like, so he never told
anyone. He hadn’t intended to share his accounts of sexual abuse that night,
but that’s where their conversation went. Mom could scarcely summon words to
direct him while she replayed her unwitting interactions years ago with the
abuser. He seemed like a nice man.
It doesn’t take a PhD in counseling or psychology to hear me
talk about my window to child sexual abuse and watching it take its toll on my
mom to realize that my disdain for predators, abuse and inaccurate reporting
isn’t only about the victims. It’s also
about the professionals (read: moms) working to uncover, stop, prosecute, and counsel
after the abuse. A vigilant village is needed to combat the myriad of factors
that can contribute to cycles of misconduct, battery and abuse.
Whenever I see online postings from media outlets with sketchy
language about criminal sexual conduct, I leave a comment. After the October
story about the soccer coach and my subsequent plea to not refer to the
incidents as a “sexual relationship”, I got a message from a childhood friend. They
disclosed that they experienced sexual abuse as a child from an esteemed
authority figure and, after years of silence, had only recently been able to seek
counseling and experience healing. They appreciated my voice.
When media accounts don’t call out sexual abuse for what it
is, people like my friend often feel victimized all over again. When media accounts don’t call out sexual
abuse for what it is, we risk becoming desensitized to the seriousness and
prevalence of it. Society loses a grasp of consent. In cases like that of the culinary
teacher and ex-soccer coach, accurate language is also critical because it highlights
that sexual predators aren’t just scary men lurking in dark alleys. They can be
coaches, teachers, church leaders, relatives, business professionals,
politicians… The list goes on. Anyone of any gender can be guilty.
The first step in stopping sexual violence and abuse is
recognizing it when it happens, and we can’t do that until we call it what it
is.
