Hello readers, friends, family, strangers from around the globe. When I set out to create this blog I told myself, “Whatever you do Carolynski, don’t you ever talk about politics, and please, fer Pete’s Sake, try to keep it upbeat.” Well, today I am likely going to break my own piece of advice. It probably won’t be upbeat, but I will try to keep the politics out of it. Also, as a forewarning, if you could not tell by the title, this article could be triggering. I’m not sure, but we will see where it ends up. I don’t blame you if you choose not to continue reading, and I am sorry for whatever may have happened to you in the past. I love you and you are strong and bright, and don’t ever let anybody take your light away from you.
The Renaissance Festival has officially ended for the season, so I found my way back to church this morning. I promise, this is not going in a religious direction, just stick with me for a moment. The pastor was talking about Joseph, you know, the one with the jacket with the colors. Anyhow, he talks about how Joseph kept getting repeatedly knocked down, but would always brush himself off, and get back at it. And then my mind wandered, as I was paying attention to the pastor’s words. I usually don’t mind letting my mind wander a bit during church, as my brain makes connections from the sermons to past experiences. I never know where my brain where will go, or how it will connect. But this time it reminded me of my hellish last summer in South Dakota. It reminded me of Tensia and Jess. The tears welled up, and overflowed onto my face. It is Domestic Violence Awareness Month.
I told myself last fall I would no longer speak on the subject. That I am too consumed with fury over our very flawed criminal justice system on this matter. But I realized that I would be doing a great disservice. I would not be honoring Tensia and Jess by moving on. I am now in the latter half of my twenties. Before I had reached the ripe old age of 25 I lost two peers, whom I cared for deeply, to domestic violence. I nearly lost a third friend to domestic violence last year, but I knew the warning signs, and if you know how pig headed I can be, I was just not going to lose another friend that way.
Tensia and Jess were both just 22 when their lives were taken. Both were warm and caring women, with so much to give to the world. And it is for them and the many others who have perished that I am writing this.
Domestic violence is an evil in the world that we do not like to talk about. It is ugly, and from a prosecution stand point, hard to prove. But what if we pushed our detectives harder? What if we allotted funding in EVERY county and city to a department dedicated solely to these crimes? What if we pressed these detectives to turn over every stone, and to be actually trained to help assault victims?
The following is a true story. My friend went to the cops with her story of domestic assault, we turned in thousands of texts, took pictures of the bruises and cuts, but yet the detective had the audacity to ask her if she was crazy. That there was no way her claims could possibly be true. It should not surprise you that the police did very little to help my friend; if anything, they made her life worse.
We have got to do better. It is 2018, not 1950. There are millions of resources out there. There have been millions of advances in psychology and forensics. You might mock the #MeToo movement, but I ask you, have you really had an open dialogue with an expert on the subject? Have you talked with a victim advocate, or someone from your local women’s shelter or sexual violence center? Do you know if your city has a department that’s educated and ready to help victims?
Here are a few statistics, if you are thinking that this is not a HUGE problem:
1 in 5 women are raped in their lifetime.
1 in 5 college women are sexually assaulted while enrolled in college.
1 in 4 girls are sexually assaulted by the time they reach 18.
2 out of 3 female homicides are committed by family members or significant others.
Out of 1000 rapes, only 57 will lead to an arrest. Of those 57, only 11 will be referred to prosecutors. Of those 11, only 7 will lead to a felony conviction. And of those 7, only 6 of them will be incarcerated.
Let me simplify that. Out of 1000 rapes, there are only 6 times the rapist will be incarcerated. That is .6% of rapes will lead to incarceration. Not even 1%. And people wonder why people don’t report. To go through the humiliating process of a rape kit, then go to court where you will be asked irrelevant questions about your promiscuity, whether or not you like to have an occasional beer, what you were wearing, etc, only for the person who caused such great trauma to get a slap on the wrist at most. No thank you. The system is flawed, and we must fix it.
So readers, I am going to split you into two camps. Political and not political.
If you are politically inclined, I ask that you reach out to your politicians (city councils, representatives, etc) and ask them what they are doing to combat these problems.
If you are a strictly, “I hate politics, no thank you, give me something meaningful,” type person, I ask that you figure out what local resources are in your neighborhood to help people in these situations. Figure out what their needs are, and see if you can donate time or resources to them.
For those of you still reading. Thank you for sticking it out. This has not been one of my most coherent posts, as it is something that I am perhaps too passionate about.
Until Next Time,
Carolynski Marie
Carolynski Marie 