Amid the cesspool of sexual assault allegations running rampant in Hollywood and on Capitol Hill, it appears as though Brock Turner has reared his ugly head again and is looking for his 15 seconds of fame.

The former Stanford University student convicted on three separate accounts of sexual assault has filed an appeal for a retrial on the grounds of a “fundamentally unfair” sentencing. Because apparently, when you sexually assault an unconscious woman and are sentenced to three months in prison for it, you are the one being victimized.

Turner’s case is just one example of the patriarchal white privilege rampant in American culture, where men in positions of power abuse the system and their peers and expect no repercussions for their actions. The audacity of Turner delegitimizing the trauma his actions caused this woman speaks volumes to the entitlement at the core of the country’s sexual assault epidemic.

What’s particularly nauseating about Turner’s case is the concern expressed over how his trial and imprisonment has impacted his life. Because who cares about a man attempting to rape an unconscious woman behind a dumpster when he’s a hopeful-Olympic swimmer?

This attempted humanization of sexual assaulters adds further insult to injury in a situation where the victim’s basic human rights and dignity are trampled over in favor of coddling a spoiled, arrogant abuser. Turner does not need your pity. He does not need you stroking his back and whispering sweet nothings to him to shield his fragile ego from just persecution.

Aaron Persky, the judge who oversaw Turner’s initial trial, feared that a full 14-year sentence would have a “severe impact on him.” But the impact Turner felt from his own actions is a drop in the bucket compared to the lifetime of pain he inflicted on the woman he assaulted.

Emily Doe, the legally appointed name for Turner’s victim, read a statement at his initial trial that went viral and highlighted the personal anguish victims of sexual assault are subjected to every time they have to relive their trauma:

“You have no idea how hard I have worked to rebuild parts of me that are still weak. It took me eight months to even talk about what happened. I could no longer connect with friends, with everyone around me. I would scream at my boyfriend, my own family whenever they brought this up. You never let me forget what happened to me. At the of end of the hearing, the trial, I was too tired to speak. I would leave drained, silent. I would go home turn off my phone and for days I would not speak. You bought me a ticket to a planet where I lived by myself. Every time a new article come out, I lived with the paranoia that my entire hometown would find out and know me as the girl who got assaulted. I didn’t want anyone’s pity and am still learning to accept victim as part of my identity. You made my own hometown an uncomfortable place to be.”

When we think about sexual assault in terms of the assaulter’s rights, we strip the people they victimize of their identity, their dignity and their right to heal. We perpetuate a cycle of victim blaming and legitimization of the crimes committed against them because of our preconceived notions that sexual assault happens to those who ask for it.

It is precisely because of these same sentiments that now, more than ever, it’s vital to address this national epidemic head-on.

What Turner’s father dissolved into nothing more than “20 minutes of action” on his son’s behalf is emblematic of the crux of the problem concerning sexual assault: That it’s simply about sex.

Neither sexual assault and rape are about sex. Sex is rooted in consent shared between people who both agree to the act. Sexual assault is violence based on entitlement, a need for power and the perception of others — particularly women — as inferior individuals who can be raped and pillaged as assaulters please.

Conflating sexual assault with sex transforms the focus on the issue into something rooted in the notion of sex being immoral, rather than the fact that our culture has socialized men into thinking they can treat women like inanimate sex toys and face no repercussions for it.

When Turner stripped a woman of her dignity, the least we can do is strip him of his humanity.

Kelsey Thompson is a junior magazine journalism major. Her column appears biweekly. She can be reached at katho101@syr.edu.

Published on December 4, 2017 at 2:22 am