Assault: Room for all on hot seat

For the better part of 20 years with this column, I’ve written about sexual assault in its April awareness month. A few years ago, I stopped. Not because it isn’t important or I stopped caring.

Writing is a very personal exercise. When an issue has touched you personally, emotions precede and outlast the writing of it. With #MeToo well underway and society progressing, I figured, someone else will do it.

I’ll bet the average German citizen disturbed by Hitler’s early maneuverings thought similarly. That worked out well.

Something similar is happening with sexual assault and misconduct in institutions. Nationwide, most colleges have developed policies against this thorny problem but many still defer meaningful investigations and consequences to police. Employers aren’t sure what to do, so they wait for the courts (whether of law or public opinion) to tell them.

Hey, it’s hard. Let someone else do it.

While efforts are being made, the institutional consensus still seems to be that it’s someone else’s job to determine the overarching rules, what constitutes breaking them, and what the consequences should be.

Maybe that’s not such a hot idea.

“One of these days, Alice. Pow! Right in the kisser.”

Remember that iconic line from the ironically named show, “The Honeymooners?” Every wife’s dream spouse was old Ralph. Even decades later, everybody laughed. We never saw him punch her. It’s “just a joke.”

Then domestic violence stopped being one. That brand of comedy today would drive its producer to bankruptcy. Why? Because we didn’t just pass the buck to cops and courts.

Somewhere along the line, society figured out real change takes the whole village. There will always be people who behave unethically. It’s the rest of us who make it easy or hard for them to do it, who determine the world our children and grandchildren will experience.

Sexual assault is like that. No jokes, no entitlements, no silent tolerance. One hundred percent ownership of one’s own body, to the last person, no qualifiers.

And whether it’s prejudice, DV, or this, everybody has a role to play in changing our culture because it’s about how we see it, and how that affects the atmosphere we share.

Everybody.

Lawyer and author Alexandra Brodsky’s much-publicized new book, “Sexual Justice,” argues that even smaller institutions should be investigating and responding somehow to sexual misconduct. Not necessarily to deliver punishment, but to at least address the issue head-on if it arises, preserving their broader missions.

At minimum those missions are compromised by a sexually pressured environment because less work gets done, or done effectively. It makes good workers feel dissatisfied or unsafe, and new ones harder to attract.

The military is beginning to recognize this too, encouraging more reporting and shifting its handling of cases. Compassion aside, openly addressing it and responding meaningfully is simply good business.

Each place, each person has their own role in conquering this if we’re ever going to “get past it.” That includes full and frank community conversation, acknowledging the seriousness of accusations (which should be better verified before spreading on social media), their misuse, and where and why we draw lines on both behavior and response.

How we accomplish this is no easy feat. But its complexity needn’t dissuade us. Not so long ago when it was somewhere between a joke and “none of my business,” domestic violence victims had nowhere to turn. We quietly hid our bruises and hoped it wouldn’t get worse. It was just expected.

Not long ago, when a boss wouldn’t stop pawing you in the file room, the only recourse was unemployment. It was just expected.

Change comes with growing pains, but we’ll get there if we all pull our weight.

If you have been assaulted, Safe Passage is a confidential source of help. Call 208-664-9303 or see Safepassageid.org.

Sholeh Patrick is a columnist for the Hagadone News Network. Email Sholeh@cdapress.com.