By Alex Kory
Including the voices and real life experiences of survivors can
personalize issues like domestic violence and sexual assault in ways that
statistics cannot. Stories educate, inspire, and connect people. Because of
this, survivor stories are frequently told on the news, at public events, and
even in movies and television. But has our demand for survivor stories come at
the expense of survivors themselves?
While some survivors choose to share their stories on their
own accord, many others are approached with speaking opportunities or interview
requests. When I worked as a domestic violence advocate it was not uncommon to
get inquiries from media or event planners looking for a survivor to share her
story; Legal Voice, too, frequently receives similar requests. As advocates, we
can help survivors decide whether to share her story by weighing the intent of a
request against the impact on the survivor. In the end, the survivor is our
number one priority.
But in other circumstances, that isn’t the case. Even with
seemingly good intentions, education can quickly become exploitation by
journalists, event planners, or panel moderators who are simply looking for the
shocking details. Survivors may face disbelief in their stories or be pressed
for explanations of very intimate, personal, and traumatizing events. Put on
the spot, survivors may not have prepared for certain questions or considered
the potential impacts of taking their story public.
Journalists who report on violence against women have to balance the demand for stories with scrupulous fact-checking. In the aftermath of Rolling Stone’s discredited story on an alleged gang-rape at University of
Virginia, journalists are even wearier of believing a survivor’s own words. And
as more stories are reported, including stories that become discredited, the
public is weighing in on the issue in disturbing ways—playing out the role of
investigator and adjudicator in news article comment sections and on social media.
Survivor stories that are told without the input or permission
of the survivor can create risk, unwanted attention, and scrutiny for the
survivor. I cannot count the number of times I saw the video of Janay Rice (Editor’s note: link
does not take you to actual video) being dragged unconscious out of an
elevator—not once because I sought it out. When she did decide to speak about
her experience to ESPN, over 650 people weighed in in the comments section, with varying degrees of
victim-blaming and misogyny.
It becomes even more problematic when we try to reconcile
the demand for survivor stories in the news and at public events with the entertainment industry’s use of violence against women. While some stories are told to
educate and engage people, others employ violence against women solely and
indisputably for the purpose of entertainment. The wildly successful Law and Order: SVU—a show that dramatizes, reenacts, and profits off of stolen sexual violence survivor stories—has been feeding our insatiable desire for
“real-life” survivor stories for over 16 years. And like the entertainment
industry, most news media outlets are also driven by profits, which can lead to
sensationalist
reporting, gratuitous violence, and even highly sexualized depictions of victims and survivors.
Survivor stories at public events such as conferences,
fundraisers, and even hearings on proposed legislation allow for live interaction between survivors and
the audience, opening up the dialogue in critical ways. But it also creates the
potential for invasive questions or offensive assertions by people assessing credibility, judging stories, and picking out the survivor’s mistakes. All
of this may leave survivors feeling exhausted, angry, and exploited.
The goal of sharing survivor stories should be to empower
women affected by violence and inspire others to take action against it. But
when survivors are scrutinized, blamed, and used for entertainment, we’re only
adding to the myriad reasons for the gross underreporting of rape and domestic violence.
So how can we engage with survivor stories in a way that is
respectful, educational, healing, and empowering? There is no bright line rule and we can’t always anticipate
the full impact of sharing a survivor story. But we can take steps to carefully
consider the survivor speaker, the audience, and the purpose.
- Survivor speaker: Choosing a speaker should be done thoughtfully. As an advocate at an emergency domestic violence shelter, I always turned down requests from people seeking survivors to speak because my clients were homeless and living in crisis, and often in the process of seeking legal protection or child custody. Survivors should be given space first before being asked to take their story public, and should not be asked to decide immediately. The survivor should be able to choose her own identifiers or labels, if any (i.e. dv survivor, victim of trafficking, etc.) and should be able to decide beforehand what topics will be discussed.
- Audience: The particular audience may impact who the speaker is, what topics will be covered, and whether the audience will be able to engage with the speaker or not. Some survivors may be invigorated by speaking to potentially hostile or uninformed audiences like lawmakers or batterers groups. Others may prefer sympathetic audiences already knowledgeable about and committed to ending violence against women.
- Purpose: Generally, survivor stories should be shared with some intention of educating people about the problem of gender-based violence and inspiring them to take action—rather than to entertain or instill fear. It may also be important to consider whether the story is put into context, related to larger societal issue, or accompanied by a discussion of the root problems and possible solutions, or a call to action.
Alex Kory is an intern at Legal Voice and 4 short weeks
away from graduation. She is a Scholar for Justice at Seattle University School
of Law; and like a true north westerner, she camps in the rain.
Photo courtesy of Jezebel (Gawker Media).
Posts
