Dear Victims:
As a prosecutor, there are so many things I wish I could have done or said to comfort you as you told your stories of how the defendant stole your childhood, your hopes about the future, your future relationships, chances of future relationships surviving through trauma, or your dignity and sense of self.
Please know this. I always believed you. I knew you were telling the truth. You are worth something. You matter. You are brave. You're braver than you realize. You're so much more than you probably realize. You're not damaged. Not only do I believe you, but I think you represent everything good in humanity. It's one thing to endure something, it's another thing to testify or talk to law enforcement about it. You had to share the most humiliating details about your life or relationships while strangers gawked at you or stared in silent judgment. This is after you had to describe intimate physical details or people you barely knew talked about things like: what happened in your underwear, what you wore to bed, your routines, and preferences that were all meant to be private.
At the time we interacted, you were traumatized and hurting. I was just another person who sporadically appeared in your life, necessarily tied to the crimes the defendant committed against you. Our conversations were brief and I directed them. I couldn't offer you candy or food, which is my first defense mechanism when someone is hurting. Doing so would allow the defense to argue that somehow I bribed you to tell your story. I couldn't sit down and weep with you because a) I'm a woman and we're not supposed to be emotional and b) emotions won't bring you justice. That doesn't mean I didn't want to do those things. Please know that what you described through tears really did impact me. I cried for you and still do. I wanted to be warm and friendly. However, I also knew that I'd be asking you to testify and I didn't want you to think I'd been nice to trick you somehow.
Society doesn't know how to treat you. I can't imagine the number of difficult conversations you have to avoid. I wish I had an answer. For any part I played in making you say "vagina," "vulva," "penis" or "penetration," I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you didn't know what child words could translate the adult things that happened to you. Your lack of preparation for a world that made you turn childhood words into descriptors for heinous adult acts was one reason the defendant probably selected you. It's also the saddest thing to try and listen to a child articulate what they shouldn't have to describe in the first place. I'm so sorry.
There were moments when I thought I couldn't breathe as I've listened to victims in court describe what happened. Juries and judges don't see the first time those words leave a victim's mouth to report a crime. The pain that ricochets through someone's body when their painful memories align with their words. It's like watching someone take their last breath. I always hoped you would cry on the stand. And a lot. Not because I'm cruel, rather, I wanted the fact-finder to get as close to those raw moments as possible. To see what I saw. I'm sorry for that, but I wanted to get justice for you and the longest sentence possible.
I would propose that we stop calling you a victim, so forgive me for the title of this post because I wanted to grab your attention. Victim is what the defendant chose to make you. That's how the law labels you. In my mind, you are a survivor and a fighter. Going off to combat is exactly what you did. I have to believe that we can win the war, even if we lost some courtroom battles. The war has to be fought in the courtroom. And it starts with legislation.
Why in the day of technology, are survivors of a crime forced to testify in person? This is a Confrontation Clause issue that should be reviewed and addressed.
What protections are in place for survivors who don't have supportive families or parents?
What funds are established for survivors to get treatment, become educated, and, most importantly, heal?
Why are perpetrators of sexual crimes allowed to serve only a part of their sentence before being released? Does the public know how fast good behavior credit adds up?
What happens after the perpetrator serves prison time?
What do victim advocates do and what could they do better?
By no means am I advocating that we bypass the rights of an accused. I think we can do both, but it's going to take some attention to detail, and advocates who are willing to pierce the veil of our current system.
