2003-12-19 - 12:48 a.m.
Last week I got an urgent phone call from a friend in another city, telling me about another boy who is somewhat involved in the “punk rock subculture” or “the scene” or one of “the kids” or whatever who has sexually assaulted several women in at least two cities. We talked about an intervention the survivors had planned, how he responded to their testimonies and demands that they feel safe. Or, should I say, didn’t respond. It makes me so fucking mad. It’s fucking gross. These boys ruining people’s lives with their fucked up privilege and slimy ways.
And fuck, I mean how many times have you heard a story like this? How often can I say, “Oh, my friend(s) were in a similar situation several years ago (months ago, days ago...).” How many wounds are we already healing, battles were continuing to fight?
Another thing that fucking gets to me about this is how often when the perpetrator of this kind of abuse is in the “scene” he hides behind some kind of radical persona, some kind of interpretation of fucked up politics to claim that he can’t be so bad, because he’s a punk (or a kid or zinester or whatever) after all. Maybe there’s lots of terms and rhetoric being slung around, maybe he’s “sorry,” but where’s the accountability?
I spent a lot of my summer planning two workshops with my amazing friend Moe Bowstern responding to another abuser, and this just served as a reminder that this kind of thing never stops, no matter how many workshops, trainings, processing sessions and healing that you do. I know this and I am glad that for a moment Moe and I (along with the many people that came to and helped out at these workshops at the Portland Zine Symposium) were able to put questions of accountability and safety and healing and community support out there.
But sometimes it feels like it will never be enough. Sometimes it feels like those with power will never stop using it and abusing it, will never stop letting those below them on this hierarchy with straight white rich men at the top know just how far below them they are.
I feel very lucky to know so many fucking fierce survivors and allies of all genders.
I know this is all really vague and just a little bit riot grrrl, but I’m having a hard time articulating the knots of rage inside me right now.
