From: New Liberation News Service <nlns@igc.apc.org>
Subject: NLNS: Rapists are Ordinary Guys
Followup-To: alt.activism.d
Originator: daemon@pencil.cs.missouri.edu
Organization: ?
Date: Fri, 22 Jan 1993 17:44:01 GMT

/* Written  6:29 pm  Jan 18, 1993 by nlns@igc.apc.org in igc:nlns.news */
/* ---------- "NLNS Packet 3.7 *** 1/18/93" ---------- */

Rapists are Ordinary Guys
Anonymous, The Charlatan

	The author of this piece has asked that her name 
not be used, not because she is ashamed of what 
happened to her, but because she feels remaining 
nameless emphasizes that rape can happen to anyone.

(CUP/NLNS)--The subject of an afternoon talk show I 
watched the other day was "should women carry 
weapons?" The guests gravely talked about attackers on 
the streets. They preached about the merits of carrying 
guns and mace to protect themselves.
	And I began to think about the "attackers" these 
women spoke of--the men who hover in bushes and prey 
on women in parkades. 
	Statistically, about one in 10 women who are raped 
is victimized by a stranger. Most are raped in familiar 
surroundings, like their own homes. In a shocking 
number of cases, weapons women use against their 
attackers are turned on them.
	So, women walk the streets in fear of being stalked. 
Their fear is profitable for those who sell women mace, 
guns and green dye to spray their attacker. Women 
watch over their shoulders for creepy, sicko men who 
hide in recesses along the streets.
	This is the rape myth.
	I know it's a myth because that is what I thought 
about rape. Until it happened to me.
	When I was 17, I was at a party with some friends. 
After a couple of drinks I was feeling fine. It was a great 
time. I talked with everyone and laughed a lot.
	There was this one really cute guy there. I had my 
eye on him all evening. He flirted with me, I flirted with 
him. I was wearing a short skirt and my new sweater. I 
felt good about the way I looked. He seemed to like me 
too. 
	This guy was a good student. He told me he wanted 
to be a pilot. At school, he was on both the football and 
hockey teams. We talked for a long time. He said he 
wanted to go somewhere quiet, so we went to another 
room and closed the door. 
	I wanted to kiss him, so I did. It was nice. I thought 
he was really nice. So, we kissed some more.
	He put his hands under my sweater. It surprised 
me, but I let him. I remember pushing away a bit, telling 
him I wanted to talk. It was late, about one o'clock in the 
morning. I told him I'd have to go soon. But he asked me 
to stay a few minutes more. 
	I'm not sure what happened during the next hour. 
But I remember his kisses started to hurt my lips. He bit 
my breasts through the sweater, then under the sweater. 
I told him it hurt and pushed him away. He said he 
wanted to make love; I said I didn't think that was a good 
idea. 
	He leaned on me with his whole weight and bit 
harder. I started to cry. I heard my stockings rip and he 
scraped me with his fingernails. I felt incredible pain and 
I cried hard. I don't remember what I said, but I felt 
paralyzed with fear. 
	When he pulled his weight off me, I scrambled to 
the door. I noticed I was bleeding through my sweater. I 
remember his words as I sobbed and grabbed at the door 
handle. "Don't go," he said. "I'm sorry."                                                                                                                                             
	I ran home through the snow that night, leaving my 
shoes behind. When I came through the door, I went 
straight to the shower and washed and washed. I couldn't 
get clean.
	Was that guy an attacker? He was young and clean-
cut, he had a great future ahead of him, just like all the 
other guys in grade 11. It was a party and there were 
lots of people around. I knew almost everyone. We 
flirted, we kissed. How could this be rape?
	For three years I wondered why this happened to 
me. For three years, I believed I led him on--my skirt 
was too short, I kissed HIM, I shouldn't have stayed out 
so late. It was my fault, I asked for it. For three years I 
told no one about it.
	So, I can't help but wonder who the guests on that 
talk show were talking about. Back alley perverts? Or 
men who maintain power and control over sex, whenever 
and with whomever they want it? And why should 
women carry weapons to defend themselves in social 
settings or in their own homes? Why should a 17-year-
old girl defend herself physically from a man who wants 
sex? 
	The answer? She should't. No woman should. Sex 
without consent is rape.
	So, to all women: the next time you catch yourself 
looking over your shoulder for rapists as you walk home 
at night, remember you are far more at risk in a bar, at a 
friend's party and in your own home. Because rapists are 
just ordinary guys.

The Charlatan is the student-run newspaper at Carleton 
University, and they can be reached at Room 531, 
Unicentre, Carleton University, Ottawa, Ontario K1S 5B6; 
(613) 788-668.

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