On Thursday, Men Can Stop Rape will host the D.C. premiere of THE LINE, Nancy Schwartzman's documentary about sexual consent as filtered through her own experience with rape. I interviewed Schwartzman in April about confronting her rapist on camera for the film; she'll be on-hand at the event to "facilitate discussion on how to use the film as a teaching tool among advocates, prosecutors, and college men." Details after the jump.

Thursday, July 22, 2010 at 6 p.m.
Center for Education on Violence Against Women
801 Pennsylvania Ave. NW, Suite 375

Space is limited, and RSVP is required: Send full name and organization affiliation to nbates@ncjfcj.org by July 21.

* The Daily Beast's Tricia Romano declares Old Spice Guy Isaiah Mustafa a "post-racial commercial genius." Commercial genius? Yes, ladies. Post-racial? Not so much, says Georgetown Girl.

* Liz at THE LINE writes about the problematic social imbalance between fraternities and sororities:

The social structure that we lock into as a sorority is, for lack of a better word, stupid. Here’s how it works: sororities are dry and fraternities are not. This means there is absolutely NO alcohol allowed in the sorority houses. If the fraternities host all the parties, decide who gets to come, and provide all the alcohol, who holds all the power? Frat parties can be fun –my friends and I are even known to take our costumes to the next level. But there is a problem with the structure because it promotes an unbalanced social scene.

* Help Holla Back DC! re-brand itself.

* Milk Nymphos star Lorelei Lee talks to Broadsheet about the importance of keeping her real name private:

While most of the fan mail that I receive is positive, I've also received a number of e-mails that have been pretty frightening. For my own safety, my professional name is the one that I use in every public context. There was never a need for my legal name to be revealed in open court. The prosecutor's claim that using my professional name would give me an "air of legitimacy" was incredibly insulting.

* Via GLAA Forum, The Nation reports on queer youth in juvenile detention facilities.

* From THE LINE: "I have noticed a disturbing trend among women: we do not like to admit we have sex."

* SAFER Campus on alcohol and consent:

there is so much defensiveness about alcohol and consent, as though it’s a really really complicated thing. And ya know, I think that for people who are aren’t raised to think about sex as a shared experience in which two people are actively, positively participating, it can actually seem that complicated. But the reality is that it doesn’t have to be. Having sex with an incapacitated person should be widely understand as rape. Two drunk people having sex should be aware enough of the other person to have a sense of what is or isn’t consent because they’ve been raised to respect other people, and it’s second nature to them to check and make sure their partner is involved. I understand this is reductive; that it’s real nice to think about this sexual utopia where things are simple, but perhaps not a realistic picture of how things are now so what’s the point. But I think that we overcomplicate consent; people say that defining consent is making something natural more complicated than it needs to be, but really isn’t something only complicated when it’s unclear? Wouldn’t the actions themselves be less complicated if we had the complicated conversations beforehand? I dunno. I long for the day when this can be that simple.

* Tony Perkins is concerned that Amtrak is using taxpayer money for "recruiting homosexual passengers." Gays on trains? Is nothing sacred?

* Adult Video News reporter Mark Kernes registers his displeasure with the court on its handling of the John Stagliano obscenity case. At issue: The judge's decision to keep jury selection private, presumably because of the porn-y nature of the line of questioning:

As a journalist, I have covered three previous federal obscenity cases—U.S. v. Little (Middle Dist. of Fla.), U.S. v. JM Productions (Dist. of Ariz.) and U.S. v. Isaacs (Central Dist. of Calif.)—and in all of those cases, reporters were permitted to attend all phases of the trial, including the jury selection, during which the jurors were all referred to by their juror number in order to protect their privacy.

However, in the Stagliano case, Judge Leon closed the courtroom while the attorneys were discussing the written jury questionnaires and questioning individual prospective jurors based on their answers in the questionnaires. It has been my experience that prospective jurors' answers to counsels' questions can be very informative of their backgrounds and mindsets, and as a reporter, I believe I should have had access to that information as background for my coverage of the trial, and that Judge Leon's order amounted to a violation of the First Amendment's "freedom of the press" clause.

* Nancy Schwartzman talks about having her rape debated on camera for a potential new "feminist" series:

I was told that the 30 second trailer of my film would be used to “kick off” the conversation and we’d go around one by one, with some guidance from the moderator, and discuss the multidimensional and complicated topic of rape. We’d use smart, snarky analysis of a real—not imagined, not whined about, not exaggerated, not falsely claimed—problem.

Instead, egged on by the producer, participants—not the moderators—were encouraged to take what they saw in the trailer and the one sentence synopsis of my rape (she consented to vaginal sex, and then was raped anally) and debate. It didn’t occur to me that a producer would structure a conversation around my film when no one had seen it, nor was it ever articulated that my body parts and my rape would be at the center of this debate.

* Want more on Olivia Munn and What She All Means? Sady's got it.

* BuzzFeed unearths Rachel Maddow's yearbook photo, where she appears with long blond hair, pearls, and no glasses. Maddow can now rest easy knowing that some dude on the Internet would "tap that!"

* D.C. attorney Bruce Stovell is suing LeBron James and James' mother Gloria "seeking to prove that he is the father" of the NBA player. Stovell claims he impregnated Gloria at a D.C. bar in 1984, then urged her to ensure that the fetus "plays basketball." He's also looking for $4 million in damages.

* New vaginal gel may help combat HIV.

* A new sex blogger writing for THE LINE asks: Does writing about your sexual experiences veer into non-consensual territory?

how could I write on a blog, about consent of all things, personal details about MY sex life, which of course involve other people? That I’d share without their knowledge or consent? Or course I won’t use their names, but a hookup is (or should be) built on a foundation of trust and communication. Part of that is the assumption (and hope) that one party won’t share private details with everyone they know or go bragging to a vast amount of people—which is essentially what I would be doing by sharing it here. Outside of writing on a blog, in my real life, I want to be open with the people around me – especially the ones I’m sleeping with.

How can I talk about my sexual experiences and not cross the line?

I suppose the obvious question is why the only option presented is to share these details without first obtaining the "knowledge or consent" of his sex partners?

* Emily Nagoski argues that men have higher sexual motivation than women. Commenters get into it on the nature v. nurture tip.

* Amanda Marcotte submits an abbreviated history of anti-feminists who call themselves feminists. From the "'Independent Feminism' Anti-Feminism" section:

Iconic Leader: Camille Paglia

Other examples: Christina Hoff-Summers, Wendy McElroy, Kathleen Parker, Heather MacDonald.

Basic argument: The important work of feminism is over, and whatever movement is left exists primarily to demonize men and the awe-inspiring male sexual spirit.

Classic quote: From Camille Paglia: "You have to accept the fact that part of the sizzle of sex comes from the danger of sex. You can be overpowered."

* The Chicago Tribune thinks Philadelphia Flyers defenseman Chris Pronger plays hockey like a girl. So they gave him a girlie name and put a little girlie skirt on him. GIRLS. THERE IS NO WORSE FATE.

Photo via the Library of Congress

THE LINE — It Was Cooperative from Nancy Schwartzman on Vimeo.

In 2004, Nancy Schwartzman flew back to Jerusalem to confront the man who raped her. Three years earlier, Schwartzman was living in Jerusalem by way of New York City, working at a cultural institution, and getting plenty of film footage on the side. Then, a co-worker raped her after a night out. Schwartzman quit her job, flew back home, and slowly processed what had happened. When she finally returned to Israel to sit down with her rapist, she had a hidden camera and microphone in tow.

The result of that videotaped conversation is "THE LINE," Schwartzman's 24-minute documentary about the way we process all the forms of sexual assault that don't adhere to the model of the stranger jumping out of the bushes. After completing THE LINE, Schwartzman launched an international sexual assault awareness campaign by the same name, which asks young people how they define their own "line" in terms of sexual consent.

I interviewed Schwartzman about the experience of confronting her rapist, her advice for survivors who want a face-to-face, and how a hidden camera can make all the difference.

SEXIST: What went into your decision to confront the man who raped you?

NS: I started reading Judith Herman’s Trauma and Recovery, this really amazing survival book. It talks a lot about post-traumatic stress and how natural it is to want to have a face-to-face with the person who caused you harm. I started videotaping and interviewing a lot of survivors, and I would ask them questions for hours and hours. What did you feel like you lost? What changed for you? But then I had these questions that no one else could answer but him. Why did it happen? Why did you do it? Did I do something to indicate that I wanted this? It was all sort of caught up in the miasma of self-blame. These survivors were not going to be able to tell me why he did it. I started doing a lot of homework on restorative justice and transitional justice. I researched the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, where many victims of human rights violations actually met their offenders. For some people, it was really useful. And for some, it was completely re-traumatizing. I did about 6 to 8 months of research and preparation for this meeting before I went.

How did you set up the meeting? What did you tell him you wanted to talk about?

NS: He and I worked together at this really wonderful cultural institution in Jerusalem. I had a close friend who was still here. I would be in contact back and forth with her, and she would tell me, ‘Yes, he’s still here. He still works here.’ I got his e-mail. I sent him a letter just saying, 'I’m coming back to Jerusalem, and I’d like to see you and talk to you.' It was just super general and open.

Before you confronted him, had you spoken to him about the assault at all?

NS: He tried to talk to me after the assault a few times. He was unsettled with how we left things. He wanted to keep telling me, and himself, that everything was fine. The day after he raped me, he came up to me in front of a group of people and pulled me aside. Literally the next day. I didn’t even want to get within ten feet of him. He said, ‘About last night. We were really drunk.’ He was already covering his ass the next day. I said, ‘Don’t talk to me in front of anyone. We’re at our place of work. Don’t talk to me at all. Last night you raped me, and I don’t want to talk to you ever again.’ Ten days later, he tried again. I think he was feeling uncomfortable that I was hanging out and talking to other people and avoiding him; we were still working together for 6 weeks after the assault. He was feeling left out. He knew I was very upset. He wanted to regain some control over our social situation.

Why was it important for you to go back and confront him again a few years later?

NS: Time had passed, and your mind really, really plays tricks on you after an assault. I was still confused as to what happened and why it happened. I said, ‘OK, you raped me,’ and he looked stunned, and then three years go by. I needed to know what happened and why it happened, on a political level. Politically, what’s going on? Why are these rules not clear to him? Maybe I have a different set of cultural norms than he does. I went into analytical mode and filmmaker mode, and I started thinking about capturing this potentially fascinating conversation to use in a larger piece of media. He could apologize. He could accuse me. He could take responsibility. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I wanted to give him one more chance to give me some reason.

What did it feel like to sit down with him?

NS: I had so many feelings going through my head at that moment. It was really powerful to see this guy who I thought was a monster. I was so terrified of him, so scared to look him in the eye again. When I saw him again, I just saw him as a person. He’s a person that I’m making really uncomfortable. And I liked that, you know? I was super confused throughout the process, because I witnessed his humanity. I realized that he’s not a monster. There were times when he tried to convince me of what a great guy he is. I was not convinced, but part of me felt torn, so it was disturbing, too.

Did the hidden camera change the way you felt about the confrontation?

NS: I wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the camera. What had happened the night of my assault was between us—there were no witnesses. It was just me and him. He could just negate what I considered my truth and my reality, and he did try and negate it many times after the assault. So the camera was coming in for me as my witness. I knew that it was going to tell the truth. The camera is objective. It was going to record what I said and what he said. I felt much safer with that camera. I didn’t feel alone. I also had a goal—go in, say what you need to say, give him a chance to speak, see how he behaves, and then decide how you’re going to use that footage. I felt so much safer that he couldn’t manipulate me, and if he had—look, it’s on my camera.

What was it like to go back and watch the footage?

NS: I absolutely fell in love with the footage. I had this very tangible thing in hand, and it made me feel like I had purpose. I felt so dedicated to doing something with it. It was such a unique piece of evidence. I loved how the images were breaking up in the wireless receiver, I saw it as a metaphor for the disconnection between us. I feel like it’s pretty inconclusive conversation, but I have that visual representation of his body language, his visual discomfort, and I can edit it and use it however I want. I was so convinced proof was in the pudding that now, no one is ever going to doubt that he raped me and knew that he was doing. But after I shot it, I spoke to a friend who was like, “yeah, I think he just doesn’t get it, it must just be cultural differences.” That plummeted me. I couldn’t get out of that rut for like a day. It was such a roller coaster. Even when you have someone on tape, people are still telling you he didn’t get it. It’s cultural. That’s why. People will still find reasons to doubt.

Last year, Ask Amy answered a letter from a reader who wasn't sure if she was raped, and Amy instructed her to go ask her rapist what happened. I thought, 'That's a really bad idea!'

NS: It took me three years after my assault to make the decision to go back. I spent one year completely in denial about what happened to me. I spent a year writing non-stop about what happened to me. And then I spent a year interviewing and researching. I did so much work determining all the possible things that could happen if I went back. I said, these are the 20 things that could happen: He could yell at me, he could cry, he could beg forgiveness. I did role-playing. I went through so many scenarios in my head. I walked in there saying, what if he apologizes? What if he’s really truly sorry? Was I prepared to forgive him? Would I go back on my righteous desire not to forgive him? He did not apologize, so that was not a problem. . . . But had I gone to him soon after the assault and said, ‘What happened?’ He would have said, ‘Nothing. You were great in bed and it was really fun.’ Seriously, he said that three years later. I did a shitload of work to prepare for this. You need to be so clear about your story, and you can’t go to him to have him tell you what happened. I went to him to find out, well: What the fuck is his version of events? What is his script? What has he been telling himself for the past three years?

What advice do you have for people who are thinking about confronting?

NS: . . . In the New York state justice system, there is a mediation program for victims and perpetrators. I spoke to a man there for a really long time while researching options for a subject in my film, who was assaulted in New York City by a stranger. And he told me that he was always really clear about the kinds of people he says 'yes' to and those he says 'no' to. The desire to meet always has to come from the victim. Sometimes rapists, in prison, will say, ‘I want to talk to the victim. I want to tell her why I did what I did.’ No—it has to always come from the victim. Then, he does a lengthy assessment of the perpetrator to determine if they’re willing to take responsibility, to see if the conversation is going to be re-traumatizing or productive. I think that’s a very important thing to think hard about. Is this a person who is going to listen? I would start by writing—write lists of how you remember your story. What that story was, what your grievances are, what you lost. I left my job that I really loved because I couldn’t be in the same room with him. I lost the opportunity to be in Jerusalem. I paid for that ticket home, I paid for therapy. All of these things that that instant does to you. I went through the process as if I was going to have an official victim offender meeting with a mediator that I didn’t have. There’s so much preparation that goes into it. Will he be a willing partner in a dialogue? What do I want from this experience? Do you want someone to come with you? You have to be super clear about your goals or expectations.

What have you heard from other survivors who have considered confronting their attackers?

NS: I don’t want the film to be a call to confront, like ‘Go do it! It’s going to make you feel better!’ This is absolutely my personal experience. . . . I’ve heard from survivors who have said, ‘I met with my father who abused me, and it was horrible.’ I’ve heard from survivors who said, ‘I spoke to the guy who raped me and he laughed in my face and walked away.’ They were completely re-traumatized by the experience. It’s confusing, because if you were assaulted by someone who is very manipulative, they will attempt to manipulate you when you meet with them. And it’s not always as productive as they want it to be.  What it comes down to is: How do we confront people who do us wrong? How do we do it safely? How do we take the burden off our own shoulders? How do we let them know this was absolutely wrong?

The Line, a new documentary film about sex and consent, hit the American University campus last week. Today, The Line's blog addressed the recent controversy at AU over student newspaper the Eagle's anonymous sex column, which presented a drunk, hazy, and painful sexual experience as a normal college hook-up:

It’s three in the morning. You have it inside you right now. It kind of hurts. You’ve had one too many cups of jungle juice. You think his name is Andrew, but you’re not really sure. You thought you would never be that girl, but there you are, in your drunken haze.

Some members of the campus community were outraged that the newspaper would normalize a possible date rape scenario. But the Line video also pointed to another controversial section of the Eagle's column: "You wake up the day after to an unfamiliar ceiling, some guy who smells like booze, AXE body spray and, well, something else."

What the hell is "something else"?

Some students who responded to the column online proved perturbed by both the column's rape associations and its overly vague description of the morning-after olfactory bouquet. Axe Body Spray has repeatedly been accused of "smelling like date rape." It would make sense for the morning after your drunken sexual experience to smell like booze. But what else does painful drunk sex smell like? And why does the Eagle think the third smell is so obvious that they don't even have to spell it out for campus readers?

Mike Johnson first criticized the column's "date rape" overtones before expressing frustration with the use of "something else":

Oh and what does he smell like? B.O.? Ribbed Trojans? I’m not sure what the deal is on that one.

Disco Stick took a stab at it:

What does “well, something else” mean? I’m interpreting it as “your pussy” or “jizz.” I’m having a little trouble deciding which one though. Could it be both? Please let me know asap.

The imprecise descriptor was further complicated by the column's irregular sentence structure. The sentence, "You wake up the day after to an unfamiliar ceiling, some guy who smells like booze, AXE body spray and, well, something else," is, I believe, attempting to convey the experience of a woman who wakes up to two things:

a) an unfamiliar ceiling;

b) a man who smells like booze, AXE body spray and (whatever).

As the sentence reads, however, it has the woman waking up to:

a) an unfamiliar ceiling;

b) some guy who smells like booze;

c) AXE body spray;

d) "something else."

Taken in that context, the possibilities of this "something else" extend far beyond body odor, condoms, pussy, or jizz. The woman in question could have awoken to a ceiling, a dude, body spray, and an albatross. Given the context of the story, she also could have woken up to a ceiling, a dude, body spray, and an STD. For feminists on campus upset with the Eagle's casual treatment of date rape in the column, the grammatical error could also lead to a happier ending: Personally, I'd like to see this girl wake up to a ceiling, a dude, body spray, and a copy of Yes Means Yes!