Roman Polanski and The History of “Rape-Rape” in America

Now that I’ve cooled down a bit about Whoopi Goldberg’s clueless remarks regarding the arrest of Roman Polanski, I think I’ll write a little historical primer for all those out there who are wondering, WTF?

The core of Goldberg’s argument, as I see it, is that Polanski accepted a plea bargain to the charge of “having sex with a minor” aka statutory rape.  So, according to Goldberg, this isn’t “rape rape” — i.e. a sexual assault on an adult woman.  If the 13-year old had been over the age of consent (16), Goldberg seems to suggest, then it wouldn’t “really” be rape.

In order to explain why this line of argument is a crock of shit extremely faulty, here’s a brief history of rape law in the twentieth century (which I’m still working through so be patient folks):

The Women and Social Movements in the United States database has an excellent document project on the age of consent campaign at the turn of the twentieth century.  Since this database is subscription only (although you can access their blog for free), I’ll summarize.  Then as now, the “age of consent” referred to the age at which a girl could consent to sexual relations. A man who had sex with a girl below that age could be tried for statutory rape.  In the late nineteenth century the age of consent in many states was as low as ten or twelve, and in Delaware the age was seven (eww!).   Hoping to protect young girls from sexual predators, reformers started a campaign to raise the age of consent to at least sixteen, and preferably eighteen.  They based their work on that middle- and upper-class men were seducing and impregnating young, white, single girls who were flocking to the cities to find work.  Some of these girls were also victims of “white slavery” (aka sex trafficking) and were lured to the city by the promise of employment, only to find that the job was prostitution.  By 1920, most states had passed laws establishing sixteen or eighteen as the age of consent.

Now, as with other Progressive-era reforms, there were shortcoming to this reform campaign.  Most reformers were white, and overlooked the plight of African-American girls and women entirely (in fact, the reasoning was that by nature, all African-American women were hypersexual, hence it was impossible to rape a black girl or woman because men could not resist these “temptresses.  Ida B. Wells unsuccessfully tried to dispell this myth). The age of consent campaign also was based on compulsory sexual purity for girls and women outside of marriage. In fact, it was at this time that the notion of “sexual delinquency” was conceived.  Moral reformers created homes for “delinquent” and “wayward” girls — ostensibly to “protect” these girls from sexual predators, but also to “reform” their behavior — i.e. make them into virtuous, pure, respectable women.  This resulted in a major asymetry in punishment: men convincted of statutory rape typically served 2-3 years in prison.  A young girl sentenced to a reformatory for sexual delinquency (which included assault by an adult male), was incarcerated until she reached the age of majority (usually 21).  So, a fourteen year-old would serve seven years in a reformatory.

Now, what about “rape rape” — i.e. sexual assault of women over the age of consent?  Well, it depends.  If a white woman charged a black man with rape, then the myth of black male hypersexuality and the culture of white male chivalry ensured that the man would be found guilty (or more likely, lynched before he even came to trial).  Even young boys  (see the Scotsboro boys and Emmett Till). For white men, it was much easier to get away with the crime of rape, since a woman’s previous sexual experience could be admitted as evidence.  So, if a woman was a “slut” — i.e. had intercourse outside of marriage — then it was obviously her fault she got raped because she was “asking for it.” The so-called sexual revolution of the 1960s and early 1970s in some ways actually made this situation worse for awhile: teenage and young adult women reclaimed their sexual agency yet the criminal justice system still assumed that girls who “slept around” deserved to get raped, or rather, that it wasn’t “really” rape because the girl led the guy on.

By the 1970s, this assumption was becoming increasingly untenable.  As I’m finding in my work on the history of emergency contraception, health care workers  along with feminist  activists, fought for more humane treatment of rape victims by police officers, emergency room personnel, and the criminal justice system. As Estelle Freedman’s recent review of the feminist classic, Against Our Will, by Susan Brownmiller, “our view of rape has transformed since the 1970s, from an unavoidable and unmentionable price of being female to an unacceptable crime against the human rights of women.”  During the 1970s and 1980s, feminist groups created rape crisis centers, and courts declared that a woman’s sexual history was irrelevant in a rape trial.  In the 1990s, there was increasing awareness of the problem of date rape, and marital rape became a crime in all 50 states.

The Polanski case occurred when definitions of rape were still evolving.  So, if the victim had been an adult, her sexual history probably would have been used as a way to weaken or dismiss the case against Polanski.

However, by today’s standards, what Polanski did was not just statutory rape, but actual, full-on, rape.  If Samantha Geimer had been over the age of consent,   Polanski would still be charged with “rape-rape” because she said no, multiple times, and was under the influence of drugs and alcohol.  [again, see her testimony before the grand jury].

Added later: see the Rape is Rape website for more information on how you can take action on this issue.

Roman Polanski’s arrest not outrageous but long overdue

roman-polanski-1977--121636799050739400via Edge of the American West.  I agree — Anne Applebaum’s defense of Polanski because he’s old and has had rough life are nearly as creepy as the original crime itself. Historiann has an exceptional commentary on this story as well.

For more ickiness, see the recent documentary about the case, and the victim’s testimony here.

Where was this outpouring of sympathy for Mary Kay Latourneau? Oh yeah, she’s not a French cultural treasure.

Added later:  got in an argument with my sister who thinks that California is wasting too much money going after Polanski.   Needless to say I don’t agree, but then again, I live in the Nutmeg state.

Dirty Dancing Moves to Feminist Beat

dancing460via RHRealityCheck.org.  I had no idea that this film is “near and dear” to some feminists.  Certainly I was aware that this is a quintessential “chick flick,” but feminist too?  When I saw it over twenty years ago I thought it was just a sappy melodrama (sorry DD lovers).  Now I’m going to give it a second chance and see whether this really does have a feminist message.

Movie review: Julie and Julia

julie_and_julia_ver2_xlgSummer is nearly over and I finally got around to taking Tenured Radical’s advice and seeing the her pick for best grown-up summer movie,  Julie and Julia, even though I’m rather meh about Nora Ephron’s work.  Like TR, I found the Julia portions of the film more entertaining and compelling — largely because of my fond memories of watching “The French Chef” on WGBH in the early 1970s.  I enjoyed  Julie’s story too — the depiction of blogging as a form of self-discipline especially intriguing.  In some ways, both characters embark on their endeavors as a means of self-improvement — Julia because she needs “something to do” besides serve as a diplomat’s wife, Julie because she needs an escape from cubicle life (not to mention the stress that must have accompanied dealing with 9/11 claims and complaints).  In the end, both find what they first did for themselves can serve a wider audience.  I thought the two stories complemented each other nicely, but must admit there was more about Julia.  I hope someday someone will make a full-length feature about Child’s extraordinary life.  Meanwhile, I’ll have to make do with My Life in France.

I tagged this entry as women’s history because Julia Child’s place in twentieth-century women’s history is significant.  Heck, the Schlesinger Library, which specializes in history of women in the United States, has Child’s papers (along with those of her collaboration Simone Beck) as part of their reknowned  culinary history collection.

Book Club: The Well and the Mine by Gin Phillips

Our August book club selection was The Well and the Mine by Gin Phillips. It tells the story of the Moores, a Depression-era coal mining family in Alabama.  For them, the Depression is nothing new — they have been barely getting by all their lives.  But not to worry, this is not “The Waltons.”  Parents Leta and Albert are hard-working and loving, but they’re not  saints, and at times, they rail against the unfairness of the economic inequality. Albert after all is a union member trying to improve working conditions and wages for men working in the coal mines.

The action centers around a mystery —  Tess Moore, the middle daughter, sees a woman throw a baby down the family well on a hot summer evening in 1931. Tess and her older sister Virgie then set out to find who would do something so unspeakably violent.  Their quest leads them to various awkward encounters with women and families in even more desperate economic circumstances than the Moores.  The readers’ guide asks, were Tess and Virgie’s intentions pure.  I would say, not at first.  In fact, they seem bent on proving that poor women with lots of kids are  innately depraved enough to kill their children.  Eventually they come to have empathy for women who do the best with what they have.

Albert Moore is fortunate enough to own land, which allows the family to grow much of their own food and to even employ tenant farmers to harvest cotton for them. Although Tess, Virgie, and their younger brother Jack have to help out around the house and farm, they still have some time for play and social activities.  The children of the tenant family, the Talberts, are not so fortunate and must spend their days picking cotton.  Albert offers his kids the chance to earn some pocket money by helping with the harvest.  They are complete failures — the much younger Talbert children can outpick them, and don’t complain about pricking their fingers or sweating in the hot sun.

Like others in the pre-FDR years of the Depression, the Moores are just barely hanging on. They have no health insurance, and no safety net should something terrible happen to the key breadwinner. When Jack is injured in a hit and run accident, Albert chooses to work double shifts at the mine to pay the medical bills, rather than sue the brick company that owns the truck that hit his son.  For me, this was the least believable part of the novel.   Yes, people were less likely to file lawsuits then, but it’s just not convincing after Phillips descriptions of Albert’s concerns about justice for the working man.

More believable is Albert’s willingness to cross the color line and befriend his African-American co-worker Jonah.   There are limits to this friendship, though. Albert invites Jonah to have dinner at his house — Jonah refuses, fearing retribution from Albert’s racist colleagues and neighbors. Albert eventually backs down — but I think he does it more to save Jonah from harm than to protect Albert’s family.

Unlike some reviewers at Amazon, I had no problem with the shift between each family members’ point of view.  What didn’t work so well was Phillips’ choice to have Jack narrate as an adult.   I suppose she did this so she could tie up loose ends by telling what happened to the family after the summer of 1931, but I would have liked the story better had she left this open to the reader’s imagination.  Once the girls solve the mystery of the Well Woman,  the energy of the story dissipates.

Still, for the most part, this is a convincing and engaging first novel.  It’s a great example of the struggles that families had to endure to survive in the era before the social safety net created by FDR’s New Deal.

Next up: A Short History of Women by Kate Walbert.

RIP Senator Edward Kennedy

via Historiann (and many others).  I’ve been sitting in my office most of the day thinking about how to craft something that recognizes Ted Kennedy’s many flaws when it came to women (e.g. the Chappaquiddik accident), while also acknowledging his accomplishments, but as usual, Historiann beat me too it.

Here’s some other blog entries with which I agree:

From Our Bodies, Our Blog:  “Remembering Senator Kennedy’s Work on Behalf of All,” “Tribute to Senator Edward Kennedy, Healthcare Champion.”

Inside Higher Ed reminded me that Kennedy was a champion of Title IX and Affirmative Action.

From Pam’s House Blend.

From Postbourgie.

From Edge of the American West.

And a round-up of other posts from Reproductive Health Reality Check.

Added later:  From Feminist Majority:

Feminist Movement Loses a Dear Friend and Champion
Statement of Feminist Majority President Eleanor Smeal on the Death of Senator Edward M. Kennedy

For decades, Senator Edward M. Kennedy was a champion of women’s rights. For years, when few other Senators would take women’s rights seriously, the women’s movement could count on Senator Kennedy. In struggle after struggle, the women’s movement could turn to Senator Kennedy and his dedicated and talented staff to lead the fight in Congress. Behind the scenes, Senator Kennedy would sit down with the leaders and activists of the women’s and civil rights movements and strategize. He was indefatigable and, whether in the Senate in the majority or minority, he had the undying hope and the know-how to move ahead, pass legislation to help millions, and work for a better day.

In legislative battle after battle, Senator Kennedy never let down the women’s movement. We did not always win – but we were always stronger because of his passion, wise council, unparalleled legislative skill, and inspiration. As a women’s rights leader who had the privilege of working with Senator Kennedy in many of those struggles for decades, to say we will miss his brilliant leadership is a gross understatement. But, of course, the dream never dies, the fight goes on, and we will never forget Senator Kennedy and his indomitable spirit.

Senator Kennedy, who was the principal sponsor of more landmark legislation than any other Senator in U.S. history, led the fight in much historic legislation for women’s rights, civil rights, and human services, including:

  • The Equal Rights Amendment Extension Act of 1978, which provided more time to pass the ERA.
  • Minimum wage laws that impacted women.
  • The Pregnancy Discrimination Act, which prohibited discrimination against pregnant women and revered the Supreme Court decision that permitted discrimination against women in the workforce.
  • The Civil Rights Restoration Act, which restored the scope of Title IX and reversed the Grove City Supreme Court case that had gutted Title IX.
  • The Voting Rights Act of 1965
  • The Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act (FACE), which protected reproductive health care providers.
  • The Family Medical Leave Act, which provided 12 weeks unpaid job-protected leave to workers for newborn care, adoption or faster care, or illness of the worker or her/his spouse, child, or parent.
  • The Civil Rights Act of 1991, which provided to women workers the right to collect damages in sex discrimination cases.
  • The Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act, which reversed the Roberts Supreme Court decision that gutted the ability of women workers to sue for wage discrimination.
  • Numerous health care measures including stem cell research, the State Children’s Health Insurance Program (S-CHIP), the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA), the Mental Health Parity Act, and reproductive health funding.