I was slut-shamed for being molested by my teacher — The Daily Dot
The author of this piece is one of my former high school students. I taught her without knowing any of this had transpired before she came to my school.
In her Facebook status, Olivia said she had considered asking The Daily Dot to publish her memoir under a pseudonym. Then, she decided using her real name would make it more convincing and powerful.
Olivia Cole was one of the brightest, most incisive students I’ve ever had. She’s a published author (Panther in the Hive), as well. If you read this memoir, you’ll see why I admire her so much.
The word “ho” is a weapon wielded for different reasons. It can be used to knock a confident woman down a peg or two. It can be used to shame a woman for engaging in behavior that makes men uncomfortable. It can be used to control women who defy sexist expectations of sexuality. It can be used to relieve predators of blame. It can be used, as in an instance back in March involving Mo’Ne Davis, to dehumanize and remind a brown girl of her “place” in the world. It can be used to ease the conscience of a society fueled by violent misogyny. If she was “asking for it,” we never have to think twice about why a 47-year old man gets a slap on the wrist for raping a 14-year old girl.
A ho is a ho. A ho has no feelings. A ho has no humanity. A ho has no story.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to come forward on my own about my abuse. One of my abuser’s other victims told her therapist, who contacted the police. Their investigation led them to me. But by the time I’d worked up the courage to face my sixth-grade teacher in court, he didn’t even get the slap on the wrist. I thought being called a whore in the halls of my middle school was bad. But sitting on the stand in a court of law and having your eighth grade poetry project read out loud and analyzed for sexual content was worse. Later, when I found myself in the youth ward of a behavioral healthcare facility, those poems were referred to as a cry for help. In court, they were all the justification needed to convince a jury that I deserved what had happened to me.My own (female) teachers testified against me, telling the jury that they’d repeatedly had to tell me to cover my shoulders, my thirteen-year old cleavage. They said I was promiscuous. They called my abuser a “long-time advocate for students,” arguing that he’d been “teaching for decades.” I was told to wear my mother’s pearls on the stand so I would look more innocent. “More innocent.” My teacher was cleared of all charges and retired with his pension. I think he’s in Florida.
More at The Daily Dot