What Kobe Bryant means to rape survivors
All-Star basketball player, philanthropist, beloved father and husband Kobe Bryant died last week in a helicopter crash. With him were his 13-year-old daughter Gianna, six family friends and a pilot on their way to a youth basketball tournament in California. He leaves behind three more daughters and his wife, Vanessa.
The love and ambition with which Bryant lived his life will always be a part of his legacy. The 2003 sexual assault charges brought against him by a 19-year-old hotel employee will also be part of his legacy. These truths – that he could love his daughters so fiercely, yet harm another young woman so profoundly – may seem irreconcilable. But they reveal a great deal about our culture and the way we perceive those who perpetrate sexual violence.
When the accusations came to light, Bryant faced severe public backlash. But after receiving death threats from Bryant’s fan base, his accuser refused to testify in criminal court. They settled a civil suit. Bryant didn’t admit guilt but he did apologize, saying, “Although I truly believe this encounter between us was consensual, I recognize now that she did not and does not view this incident the same way I did.”
Despite this low, Bryant continued to shine as one of the best players the NBA has ever seen. He founded three charities and inspired the country, becoming an icon to disaffected young people donning his jersey in the schools and streets of Los Angeles. It creates a stark cognitive dissonance. How could someone so loved do something so depraved?
Media depictions of a rapist or domestic abuser are often a stranger with a dagger hiding in the bushes, or a master manipulator like movie mogul Harvey Weinstein. In reality, sexual abusers can be anyone. People who rape are human, but that does not excuse their actions. They may endure hardships as a result of their crimes coming to light, but it does not mean their crimes should be punished any less harshly.
Some may try to quantify harm versus good, saying, “He did this so it cancels out that,” or that other powerful men harmed many whereas Bryant was accused of raping only one. There is a spectrum of sexual violence and so much of it is tainted with an unsettling gray. But in every single instance of rape, the person at fault is the attacker, not the victim. We seem to relegate our sympathy and empathy to the former and not the latter.
Many have told me to put myself in the shoes of his wife and children. What if, among their unimaginable grief, they are forced to reckon with the fact their loved one was an alleged rapist? To that, I counter: What if you were raped and then forced to watch everyone around you praise your attacker, with no mention of what they took from you?
Moreover, Bryant was not a private citizen. His life and death transpired in the press, and he signed off on that fact when he chose a career which yields to the limelight. Therefore, his actions do not exist in a bubble. We cannot wait a day, a month or a year for these conversations because this rhetoric impacts survivors right now. When a public figure commits an act of harm, it is an echo. Likewise, when the public excuses Bryant and silences his accuser, they are tacitly excusing all rapists and silencing all accusers.
A single moment should not define a person’s life. I’d argue, for Bryant, it in no way did – even though his earnings took a hit when the accusations came to light, he quickly bounced back. He had a wonderful career, a loving family and an adoring fan base. He was not “cancelled” in 2003.
But where many sexual abusers can move on from their “mistake” or their “one bad choice,” their victims are forced to endure that trauma every day for the rest of their lives. Furthermore, unlike their attacker, victims do not get to have a choice in the matter. That’s what makes it rape.
People are complicated and contradictory. We are messy, flawed and hard to stomach. If you were a fan of Kobe, you should not spite yourself for grieving his death. But you must recognize that rape is a monstrous act. At the same time, rapists are painfully human. All the worst monsters are. None of this inherently warrants forgiveness, leniency or sympathy. Rather, it puts matters into perspective. Because if even “good” people, loving parents and loyal partners have the capacity to rape, that means people we know and love have the capacity to harm in this way too – even ourselves. That is the most terrifying monster of all.
Sarah Emily Baum is a sophomore journalism and public policy major with bylines in Teen Vogue, HuffPost and the New York Times. Find her on Twitter
@SarahEmilyBaum.
