“You don’t know me, but you’ve been inside me…”
Those were the powerful words that came from the Stanford University rape victim who addressed her attacker in court. As a mother and a former rape victim, those words scared the crap out of me.
You’ve probably already heard the outrage behind the short sentence of Stanford University swimmer Brock Turner, who raped a woman while she was unconscious behind a dumpster. Despicable.
Depending on who you ask, the outrage stems from the fact that Brock played the victim during his trial, and he pulled off his con quite flawlessly. That’s not a good thing.
Even though he was caught red handed raping an unconscious woman by two students, who by the way chased him when he tried to flee the scene, he still played the victim. That in itself is alarming.
But Brock was so dedicated to his “victimhood hustle,” that he and his attorney were bold enough to convince the presiding judge (who shall not be named) that he was just some silly little college kid who lost his way.
The good news is that he damn sure didn’t convince the jury, who found him guilty of three felony charges, including assault with intent to rape an intoxicated woman, and sexually penetrating an unconscious person with a foreign object.
But he sure enough convinced his family and friends that he was as pure and innocent as the driven snow. Aside from his father, who thought that his son’s six month jail sentence was too steep for “20 minutes of of action,” his family and friends wrote letters persuading the judge to keep him out of prison, and they all knew he was dead wrong. According to the Los Angeles Times,
Turner’s maternal grandparents penned a joint letter, telling Persky they could not attend their grandson’s trial because his grandfather could develop a blood clot on the long flight from Ohio.
“We are of modest means, on fixed income, and lack the financial wherewithal to assist [Turner’s parents] who are hard-working but still middle income parents,” Carolyn and Richard Bradfield wrote to the judge.
The couple recounted how their grandson showed kindness toward an uncle, Scott, who had mental and physical disabilities and died at the age of 38.
The verdict, they said, brought them “excruciating pain.”
“We were shocked, and stunned by the outcome and left to the only thing we could do – hold each other and cry,” they wrote. “Brock is the only person being held accountable for the actions of other irresponsible adults.”
But they weren’t the only ones with something positive to say about Brock and his wayward salchica. His sister provided the judge with an orchestra full of tiny violins. She said,
“A series of alcohol-fueled decisions that he made within an hour time span will define him for the rest of his life. Goodbye to NCAA championships. Goodbye to the Olympics. Goodbye to becoming an orthopedic surgeon. Goodbye to life as he knew it.”
But the nail in the coffin came from his family friend, who is a federal prosecutor. She said,
“There is no doubt Brock made a mistake that night – he made a mistake in drinking excessively to the point where he could not fully appreciate that his female acquaintance was so intoxicated…I know Brock did not go to that party intending to hurt, or entice, or overpower anyone. That is not his nature. It has never been.”
Unfortunately, all of their voodoo on the presiding judge worked, because Brock’s six month sentence was appalling, because he may only serve three months with good behavior. That sentence wasn’t even a slap on the wrist. It was a slightly hard finger shake.
I’m still trying to figure out how a man who was as wrong as a $3 dollar bill was able to convince his family and friends that a jail sentence was the worst thing that could ever happen to him? I wish upon a star that a man in my family would have the gumption to ask me to write him a character reference, especially when he knew he was guilty of violating a woman in the most disgusting way possible.
What happened to the integrity of the people writing letters on Brock’s behalf? Brock isn’t some innocent little boy. He’s a grown man, and a rapist who was caught committing a crime. Why would anyone want someone who was charged with three felonies to represent any school as an athlete, let alone the United States as an Olympian?
Even worse? Brock still doesn’t see the error in his ways, and he’s still out in these streets playing the victim. He had the nerve to tell the jury that he was establishing a program that speaks out against “the college campus drinking culture and the sexual promiscuity that goes along with that.” Yes, he really thinks with his Stanford educated brain that excessive drinking and promiscuity was the reason why he was on trial. SMH.
How he was able to use his privilege to tap dance on the heart strings of the presiding judge was a manipulation of justice. And the judge fell for it, like a banana in the tail pipe.