I’m seeing a pattern. All my poems seem to be coming from Button Poetry. At least a good majority of the poetry videos featured here.
Today’s poem is about a topic that needs to be addressed. And that’s consent. It’s strange that we still need to have this discussion about consent. Given how far we like to think we’ve come, our progression is hindered by those who still can’t grasp this concept.
In a sexual harassment training, our instructor – a woman – stood there in front of us and stated that the way a woman dresses gives cause to sexual harassment to happen in the work place. This is no different than a defense attorney stating a woman is responsible for her own rape because of what clothes she chose to wear. Or that an underage girl already knew what sex was because she shaved her pubic region.*
We hear about how the trial will destroy the lives of rapists, but never talk about the life of the victim. And their names are hardly remembered. I can’t tell you the woman who accused Brock Turner, but his name is seared into memory until the next rapist gets off on a light sentence.
This is a discussion that, sadly, I don’t see an end to. Because for every parent who tries to raise their son properly, there are those who enable terrible behavior. And for every parent who tells their daughter to report bullies on the playground, there are those who still chime the old adage, “He picks on you because he likes you.”
This is for that really sweet guy from class, who might be asking: what about the grey areas? I’m not a rapist. What if we’re just both really drunk? What if she sends mixed messages? What if I’m trying to do the right thing but I read those signals wrong?from A Love Song, A Death Rattle, A Battle Cry