The Cost of Racial Solidarity in the #MeToo Movement
The #MeToo Movement celebrated a victory on February 24th when Harvey Weinstein, a movie executive accused of sexual harassment and abuse by more than 100 women, was found guilty of a criminal sexual act in the first degree and third-degree rape. While this verdict provided relief and renewed energy for many, from those affected by Weinstein’s actions directly to those who joined the #MeToo movement in their own right, there is still more work to do. The #MeToo movement was started in 2007 by a black woman, Tarana Burke, following in the footsteps of activists such as Recy Taylor and Rosa Parks. Following this victory, where does the movement go from here? In what ways are the voices of black women affected by this victory in the #MeToo movement and recent events involving stories of abuse? Burke spoke at the Institute of Politics following the verdict, emphasizing the importance of intersectionality in continuing the movement.
Source: thecrimson.com
Weinstein’s multiple allegations fueled the #MeToo movement like no other, as women of all backgrounds came forward with their stories. Recently, situations that mirror that of Weinstein have surfaced, such as the allegations of sexual assault against famous opera singer Plácido Domingo. These cases are similar in that both Weinstein and Domingo are respected giants in their professional fields, and used their status to pressure women into sexual relationships for decades prior. If nothing else, the surfacing of these allegations against Domingo, which started in the second half of 2019, demonstrate that the #MeToo movement’s relevance and importance persists.
Founder and publisher of the site Women and Hollywood, Melissa Silverstein, wrote, “Harvey is far from the only predator in the film industry. We cannot lose sight of this fact. Today is a big step forward towards a more equitable, safe Hollywood, but this fight will be ongoing. Accountability doesn't end here — it begins." Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley also added her two cents in the wake of the verdict, stressing the need to empower survivors to tell their stories out loud and report inappropriate behavior.
At the Institute of Politics, Burke discussed the differences in society’s response to women of color and white women who experience sexual assault and report the crime. Studies have been done to support the fact that nurses and doctors often dismiss the medical concerns of black women, which tennis superstar Serena Williams personally endured and shared her experience with the public. In the same way that the concerns of women of color aren’t always immediately considered valid in medical situations, are their stories given less weight or thought of as less believable when it comes to sexual assault?
The Weinstein verdict enables more survivors of all backgrounds to share their stories and their truth publicly, regardless of the identity of perpetrators, which was one of the main aims of the #MeToo movement to begin with. But is there an additional factor of fear or hesitancy for some women when sharing their experiences based on their race? Does this additional factor of fear or hesitancy also rear its head depending on the race of the perpetrator?
Many factors go into a survivor’s decision to report an incident of sexual assault, and the combination of multiple factors can be discouraging and result in forced or coerced silence. Silence can be coerced if the survivor feels pressure to protect the reputation of the perpetrator, especially if the perpetrator is a public figure. When accusations are made against well-known celebrities, the narrative often becomes one of disbelief and denial. Harmful stereotypes, such as the sexually aggressive black man, also play a role in victims not coming forward for fear of perpetuating or feed into those stereotypes. This existing stereotype makes coming forward an especially challenging decision for black women, who risk being seen labelled “race traitors” and risk being viewed as complicit with a criminal justice system that already disproportionately targets black men.
When talk of the case of rape involving Kobe Bryant resurfaced following his untimely death, Dreamville artist Ari Lennox took to Instagram Live to express her disapproval of people “tearing down the legacies of so many phenomenal, beautiful black men” by referencing the now settled case, adding that they “don’t care about black people.” Lennox has since apologized for her statement coming off as victim shaming, and though her thoughts present an obstacle that survivors of sexual assault face.
Considering the extra scrutiny that black men often receive in the media, this element of protecting their legacies or refraining from “airing out their dirty laundry” publicly is a real consideration that women of color, particularly black women, grapple with when considering speaking their truth. Publicly sharing damning information about a black man, especially when done by a black woman, can be seen as purposefully disparaging and discrediting him, a “disloyal” act, regardless of the truth behind her statement.
This idea was touched on in a 2019 New York Times article titled “‘You’re Not Supposed to Betray Your Race’: The Challenge Faced by Black Women Accusing Black Men” covering Meredith Watson’s accusations of rape against Virginia’s lieutenant governor, Justin Fairfax. Watson and Fairfax are both black, and as most victims of sexual assault experience, Watson’s motives were questioned and her past was prodded. After Watson came forward with her allegations, she said that a black male friend told her that he couldn’t believe that she was “going to do this to a black man.”
The emphasis put on Watson having done something to Fairfax paired with the emphasis put on Fairfax’s blackness suggests that Watson should reconsider her actions simply because her perpetrator is a black man. This mindset is not conducive to any woman, particularly black women, justly holding their perpetrators accountable for their actions, and allows this dangerous hesitancy regarding coming forward to prevail. In the CBS interview with Gayle King referenced above, Watson said: “You’re seen as betraying your race. You’re seen as betraying black men, but there’s no recognition that a black man has betrayed you.”
The legacies of black men who have sexually assaulted women should not be protected if it means silencing stories of abuse that women might have experienced at the hands of black men. This extra level of precaution that many black women feel the need to take could have the effect of perpetuating a dangerous cycle of abuse that fails to hold abusers accountable for their actions.
The Weinstein verdict brought feelings of relief to the surface for many, while highlighting the disparate ways that women of different races are treated as survivors and highlighting how Weinstein himself was treated as a perpetrator in comparison to figures such as Kobe Bryant and even Bill Cosby. The dynamics in cases of sexual assault are unfortunately shifted due to race, adding fear of betrayal to an already tense situation. While one verdict cannot undo this pattern, changes in socialization and legislation surrounding sexual assault would be impactful, which is the direction the #MeToo movement creators see the movement heading in next.
