Mourning Daisy and Melinda
By: Ainsley M
Tags: Survivor, Trauma, Sexual Assault, Melinda Coleman, Daisy Coleman

Melinda Coleman (left) and Daisy Coleman (right)

I wish I could write an open letter to Daisy Coleman and Melinda Coleman, but what’s a letter without an audience? We can no longer speak with Daisy or Melinda, for reasons that are hard to comprehend. I believe the essence of who they were lives on in its own way, but that doesn’t change the simple fact that they’ll never get to read this.

Instead, I’ll write for whoever wants or needs to listen. This is not a letter, it’s a public mourning.

For those who don’t know Daisy Coleman was a tattoo artist. She was also the subject of a widely acclaimed Netflix documentary, “Audrie & Daisy”. This documentary showed the events which unfolded in 2012 when Matthew Barnett, 17, raped and assaulted Daisy when she was just fourteen years old. The first prosecutor dropped Barnett’s case, likely because Barnett is related to the influential former state representative Rex Barnett. A new prosecutor eventually gave him a mere two years of probation.

Daisy faced intense bullying, threats, and shame from others in her hometown who didn’t believe her, or understand the magnitude of what she went through. The bullying was so bad her family was forced to move after a series of targeted fires near their home.

With time, Daisy became a fierce advocate for survivors everywhere, along with the rest of her family. Daisy Coleman co-founded SafeBAE, a group that works to prevent sexual assault in schools. Daisy’s mom, Melinda Coleman, loved and supported her through it all and acted as an advocate for her daughter and others who have had similar experiences.

This past August Daisy Coleman died by suicide. Days ago, her mother Melinda Coleman died in the same manner.

When I watched Audrie and Daisy in 2016 I immediately drew parallels between my own experiences and Daisy’s. I listened to her story, and watched what she’d managed to turn her pain into, breathless at the realization this was possible. I felt less alone. I thought, maybe, I could turn this hurt I’d never asked for into something that’d make the world a little more bearable. Like she and her family did.

But that’s not always how pain and trauma works. Yes, sometimes we can turn the ugliest parts of our experiences into something meaningful. But ultimately trauma and pain are just that; trauma and pain. It’s unfair to expect those who have gone to hell and back to become heroes overnight, just so we can feel less afraid in the face of senseless evil.

I want everyone reading this to understand that rape/assault/gendered trauma do not start or end in the moment an act is committed. As long as this insidiousness continues happening and is excused, even expected, it poisons us all. It ripples through the waters of our connected lives, sickening everything it touches. It marrs the wellbeing of our loved ones, our families… people we haven’t even met yet.

Melinda Coleman never deserved to find her daughter in the snow that night. Melinda Coleman never deserved to lose her daughter at the age of twenty-three. And Daisy never deserved any of the awful acts committed against her. None of us do.

While Daisy Coleman might have committed suicide, she didn’t kill herself- those boys killed her. Toxic rape culture that emboldened a town to treat Daisy the way they did, killed her. The sheriff who said, “teenage girls lie” on camera, killed her. And their atrocities were so pervasive, they killed Melinda too.

It’s unfathomable to think of how many people must have been hurt by those boys, and every person who supported them. Many people in Maryville, Missouri have blood on their hands.

Who knows what could have been, had those boys not done it? Some questions are ultimately unanswerable.

But I do know the future’s ours. So many of us felt our outrage, forced silence, and agony reflected in that documentary. In the lives of those two girls, and their families, who did their very best.

I like to think their spirits and resilience surely live on in myself, and every other person who watched their lives unfold and saw themselves in their fight. While I don’t believe it’s the responsibility of those who survive the unimaginable to become heroes, sometimes, just existing in the ways we can is heroic enough. If two people could change the world by living their truth and sharing their stories, imagine the futures all of us can build together, in their honor.

Thank you, Daisy and Melinda, wherever you are. I’m so deeply sorry.