PLEASE NOTE: This article contains details some sexual assault victims may find distressing.
The recent public revelations of men in power using that power in disgusting ways hit home for Tampa Bay's theater community last week when nine women independently accused Israel Horovitz of sexual assault and rape in the '80s and '90s. Horovitz has been coming to Tampa to work with Jobsite once a year since 2014; he's a popular playwright whose plays get worldwide exposure.
After the accusations, Jobsite wasted no time shitcanning Horovitz's Man In Snow, part of its current season.
"I am not going to doubt the words of nine women and his son," says Jobsite Producing Artistic Director David Jenkins. (Horovitz's son, Adam Horovitz, known for his work as one of The Beastie Boys, released a statement supporting the women: "I believe the allegations against my father are true, and I stand behind the women that made them.”)
"I don't want to believe because I consider myself a relatively good judge of character," Jenkins adds. "But I don’t doubt the women’s stories."
"Are all men dogs?" I ask managing editor Scott Harrell and editor-in-chief David Warner, and we start to talk about the pervasiveness of sexual assault.
The reality is, I should be mad as hell that it's so rampant. We should all be mad. But honestly, I'm tired. Tired of hearing heartbreaking stories. Tired of only talking about this when someone famous uses their power to sexually assault a woman. Tired of hearing men be shocked at the prevalence of sexual abuse.
Because every woman I've ever asked says she's been assaulted. It’s part of having a vagina. From the time you’re young, all your mom does is try and teach you how to minimize the damage: Don't wear a tight blouse, don't drink too much at a party, don't walk down a dark street at night, carry a rape whistle, carry mace, don't run before sunrise. The list goes on and on. And, most of all, I'm tired of the list.
I was 15. I'd briefly dated a boy my age — or thereabouts — and we'd broken up, but he didn't stop coming over after school. At first we'd still make out — very hands-above-the-neck sort of thing; I was a virgin and he was the second or third boy I'd even kissed. But then it went farther, and I couldn't make him stop when I said stop. And he didn't. Before I knew it, he would come over every day after school. No one else was home. Every day would end the same way: Him, straddling me in my parents' living room and me begging him to stop. When I complained to my mom that he made me uncomfortable — without giving her the details — she told me to stop letting him in. I didn't. He said I had to; I believed him.
I don't remember exactly what happened, or why it stopped. I'm past it now; it's been almost 30 years and I never saw it as sexual but as power. I was fucked up for a while but I made it past that. I survived. It never defined me, but even today I still feel, somehow, that I did something wrong because I opened the door.
Like many women, I never reported it — I eventually told my parents and a handful of friends knew, but that was it.
Victim shaming and blaming, Clara Reynolds, CEO of Crisis Center of Tampa Bay says, keeps many people from coming forward.
"There's a lot of blame that gets placed on a sexual assault victim, she says, comparing rape to another crime. "A victim who leaves their car unlocked? We don't shame them, but for some reason society has done that with individuals who have been sexually assaulted."
Victims, too, blame themselves, she says.
"What did I do to deserve this? Did I dress the wrong way, did I walk the wrong way?" she says victims ask themselves.
"You've got individuals who feel guilty, who are afraid — particularly in the case of a family member or a close friend. They feel like it's complicated; it's not, but the emotional connection and attachment is different," she says. "The majority of sexual assaults that happen are with a person you already know. The misconception that a person you don't know is attacking and raping you, that's a small percentage of the rape you see."
The Department of Justice defines sexual assault as "any type of sexual contact or behavior that occurs without the explicit consent of the recipient."
This includes rape, forcible sodomy, child molestation, incest, fondling and attempted rape, according to the DOJ.
"So 'Are all men dogs?' was a rhetorical question?" asks David. "Because it sounds like, from your and most women's experience, the answer is yes."
"No, they aren’t. Scott isn’t. You aren’t. Barry isn’t. My friend Dan isn’t. But enough are that, coupled with us living in a society that’s predominantly Christian, it means that women have been 'asking for it' since Eve ate the apple."
Sunday morning, my husband (the aforementioned Barry) makes an interesting point: our workforce was once predominantly male. After completing a successful project, it was nothing for one man to literally pat another on the back; when explaining something, commonplace to rest a hand on a shoulder. As women entered the workforce these gestures took on a different meaning. Some men — not all men — realized they had power over these women; those men not only reinforced the patriarchy, they set it up for what some call its downfall.
"The writing is on the wall for the patriarchal society. Women are no longer willing to tolerate or support that particular institution. I say good riddance," Christopher Klug, who works at a major telecommunications company, says. "My mother was a working professional in 1961, and she endured a lot of harassment and garbage from the men she worked with."
Bob Bates, a former dive boat captain, agrees.
"Some guys are saying women are being manipulative about this, and […] that possibility exists, but," he says, "they work for less, they have men dominate them at work or school. If [this] changes behavior of 'man' as a group, I'm in. I really like the idea that women don't have to be afraid anymore at work. It bothers me that they are or have to be defensive."
Bates, too, admits that he's not shocked so many women have similar stories.
"Every woman I've ever known — every single one — if this topic comes up, they all have stories," Bates says. "I can't say that I've ever known a woman [who] didn't feel that somebody tried to rape them at least once. They had to move out an apartment, they had to change careers… I believe that the dam has burst. I believe these women."
Reynolds says he's right to believe them. The Center, a state-certified rape crisis center, performed 359 rape exams and served an additional 299 assault victims in 2016. That's over 600 people in Hillsborough County, a number Reynolds says is likely only one-third of people assaulted (this figure does not include children under 12).
"Those are national statistics, that only one-third of sexual assault victims — they're also known as survivors — come forward. They come in as victims and we hope that when they leave, they're survivors."
Men like Bates say they have a growing awareness of their own behavior. He recounts being 12 and "flirting" with a girl he liked, and getting physical in that he pulled on her shirt.
He saw fear in her eyes and that, he says, changed everything for him.
"When I saw that, I saw her as a person," he remembers. "I'd like to find her and apologize."
He realizes, too, he's likely made women uncomfortable.
"As a guy, I'm sure I've done things that are aggressive," Bates says. He used to run dive trips in the Keys, and he admits he would say things on a boat "not appropriate for an office. I'm trying to unlearn that. I have to keep my mouth shut sometimes."
We're evolving. A few nights ago I fell asleep binge-watching Friends, and "The One With the Dozen Lasagnas" came on. Rachel's boyfriend gets a massage from Phoebe and, as she tells the Friends later, he grabs her ass and shows her his erection.
This was sexual assault, but 20 years ago, we called it "making a pass." Times change — slowly. And as they do, some men are waking up to the realities women face.
"We walk down the street, we don't worry," Bates says. "I don't have to look down the street for places where someone can jump out on me, I don't have to worry about walking down the street at one in the morning. I don't have to worry that one of my friends is suddenly grab my cock or something."
In the past year, the floodgates have opened. Women — and men — are finally speaking out about their experiences en masse. "The hashtag #MeToo has helped to bring us to a change in the culture. For the first time, individuals feel empowered," Reynolds says. "There are more women and men than we ever imagined."
"From our vantage point here, there's a new movement afoot. Women — and men — who are being sexually assaulted, for the first time, are being validated and, for the first time, somebody's believing them," she says. "This culture, coined as 'rape culture,' has been in existence since the beginning of time. Somehow, when it comes to sexual assault, it was acceptable behavior, there has been a sense of getting away with it — you could put your hands on someone, you could talk to somebody a certain way. Society was either turning its head or tacitly supporting it.
"I think… during the presidential race you started to hear women coming forward, talking about the locker room talk, that the locker room talk perpetuated this idea of a rape culture, where individuals in places of power had the right. But now we're seeing people stand up and say, 'No, even if you're my employer, even if you're my mentor, even if you're my teacher, you don't have the right to put your hands on me.'"
Scott and David and many men I know aren't dogs — but they are shocked at the prevalence of assault.
"We — or maybe I — naively believed that by 2017 this kind of Mad Men-era behavior had become the exception, not the rule," David says.
"If you aren't on the receiving end of it you aren't aware of what's been happening for centuries," says the Crisis Center's Reynolds. "I understand there are men out there who don't know how to intervene. We'd like to be able to give them information about how they can interrupt that cycle." Reynolds says, referencing the Center's Take Back The Night movement during which men signed pledges to help stop sexual abuse.
"It's so similar to the difference in white America and black America," Reynolds says. "'What do you mean there's racism?' If you're not on the receiving end of it, you don't have a sense of what the reality is out there."
Any readers who want or need to talk about their experience can call 2-1-1 any time of the day or night, seven days a week. They will be believed, Reynolds promises, and they will have support.
Please share your stories with us here. We will only identify you first name and county of residence and we will never reveal any details that will identify you.
Cathy Salustri is the Arts + Entertainment editor for Creative Loafing Tampa. Contact her at cathy.salustri@cltampa.com.
This article appears in Nov 30 – Dec 7, 2017.