Brock Allen Turner was a 19-year-old freshman, a swimmer, and student athlete at Stanford University. On January 18, 2015, he allegedly sexually penetrated an intoxicated and unconscious 22-year-old woman, referred to as Emily Doe, with his fingers.
Brock was intoxicated. How did he get alcohol illegally? The FRAT was not penalized. Stanford was not penalized. The woman was intoxicated. How did the FRAT and Stanford allow her to consume alcohol to this level of intoxication.
Two Stanford students from Sweden testified they intervened because the woman appeared to be unconscious. Yet the woman left the dancing area to go outside with Brock by her own free will. She was with friends. They said nothing. She walked with Brock to the area near the dumpster. They admit to kissing. She was willing.
The Swedish students claim Turner fled the scene as they approached, resulting in the two apprehending and restraining him until police arrived to take him in custody.
Although I have never met Brock and know little about him, it seems I have many characteristics in common with Brock. We’re both White males from Middle Class families. We were both outstanding athletes in high school and received a scholarship to compete in college.
Young Turner seems to be somewhat geeky and it sounds like he isn’t sophisticated with college-aged women. I was terribly geeky and didn’t know shit about women at that time (I admit I still don’t). I know one way I am different from Brock. I concentrated on two things in my freshman year: basketball and books.
Brock seemed to be focused on swimming and drinking beer. I wasn’t a drinker. I went to only one frat party. Disgusting! I never returned. Unfortunately, for Brock and Emily Doe, both of them drank to excess at a frat party and both made very poor decisions. Society gives a drunk woman a pass today; they crucify a male. Life isn’t fair.
I could have been like Brock with a woman such as Emily Doe. I ended up in a similar situation. This leads me to empathize with the young freshman. I also sympathize with Emily. Brock may have sexually assaulted her. I can’t know. I wasn’t there. He may also be innocent. I can’t know. I wasn’t there.
Yet millions on social media seem to know — without a doubt. How can they be sure? They weren’t there. Even Emily Doe doesn’t know. She drank alcohol to excess and passed out. How does she know what she said and did? Emily Doe told a crowded courtroom:
“You took away my worth, my privacy, my energy, my time, my intimacy, my confidence, my own voice, until today. The damage is done, no one can undo it. And now we both have a choice. We can let this destroy us, I can remain angry and hurt and you can be in denial, or we can face it head on, I accept the pain, you accept the punishment, and we move on.”
Emily Doe drank alcohol to excess and passed out. Alcohol robbed her of her dignity and better judgment — not Brock Turner. Alcohol diminished Brock’s judgment. Two young fools. How did 19-year-old Brock gain access to such quantities of alcohol? American campuses are criticized for their “rape culture,” yet we say nothing about their “drinking culture.”
It seems many Millennial woman believe they can throw caution to the wind and demand society keep them safe. As a male, society placed different expectation on me. Had I gotten “falling down drunk” and staggered into a dark alley where I was beat and mugged, police, public officials, and family would have told me, “Use better judgment next time!”
Why did Emily freely choose to drink to such excess? Where were her friends? Extremely poor judgment on her part; extremely poor judgment on Brock’s part. I believe the two should equally share blame.
Banned Commenting About Brock Turner
Facebook banned my comments regarding Brock’s alleged sexual assault and this concerns me (see below). People had questioned how it was possible Brock HAD NOT assaulted the woman who allegedly passed out.
In high school, I was recruited by a number of universities to sign a scholarship to play for their basketball team. One school was the University of Idaho. A former teammate from my high school was playing football for the Vandals. He chaperoned me on my visit.
I stayed at the Beta frat house. Losers stayed in dorms. Cool people were offered a spot in a frat or sorority house. I was auditioning, so to speak, to be accepted by the frat brothers on this recruiting trip. I was seventeen and didn’t drink alcohol at all. Never had. This was a difficult position during my trip.
It seemed everyone drank alcohol — and drank hard — at this school. U of I had a reputation for being a Powerhouse Party School. At that time, a person in Idaho could drink legally at 19. Seven miles away was Washington State, where the drinking age was 21.
Moscow, Idaho was a small town of about 10,000 permanent residents at that time. Pullman, Washington was the home of WSU. Their 20,000 students flocked to Moscow to party. There were more students partying on weekends than inhabitants of the small Idaho town. Partying was big business to the local community.
I was a straight-laced kid. I wouldn’t turn 18 until the following September. My trip occurred in April. Although I had dated extensively and was known as a “good kisser,” I was a virgin. Truthfully, I didn’t know much about women at that time. My host, Chris Frost, introduced me to a number of attractive, sophisticated young ladies during my visit.
I found similarity with one and we had dinner the final night of my trip. The coach gave her $100 to pay for evening entertainments. Drinks for her, soda for me. More drinks for her, water for me. More and more drinks for her, snacks for me. I was an athlete in training. “Wow, that girl sure can drink!”
We ended up at Beta house. People partying everyone: drinking, dancing; drinking, making out; drinking … drinking … drinking. For a naive 17-year-old, it was somewhat overwhelming.
My female escort said it was too noisy and guided me to a quiet room. I was excited. I was hanging out with this hot college chick and she liked me. She had been flirtatious and touchy all night. To a young man, things were looking up!
We started kissing. I remember the strong stench of alcohol on her breath even today. I wasn’t used to this. Young women I dated in high school didn’t drink. To a never-drinker, the smell of alcohol is a turnoff in general. But in my sexually-aroused state, I was willing to overlook this slight flaw.
We kissed. She was fun. She kissed exceptionally well. She had her hands all over me. She was far more aggressive than the young ladies I was accustommed. I was apparently a bit too timid for her as well. She unbuttoned her blouse; she assisted my hands to her breasts. While I fumbled around, she undid her bra for me. I felt such the fool.
She laid back on the broken couch and pulled me close. She encouraged my hands up her skirt. I could feel her warm and slightly wet panties. I was getting totally hot. Holy shit!!! I’ve dreamt of meeting an exciting, beautiful woman like this. She wanted me badly. I thought I was going to return home more than a boy. Cheehooo!
Then, she passed out. Her body went limp. She stopped kissing — right in the middle of hot, wet and passionate making out. My hand was up her skirt, panties down and my fingers were wet. She had passed out!
At first, I was confused. I’d never seen someone pass out. I’d seen athletes get knocked out, but this was different. I’d never been around someone who had passed out from drinking. It took a few moments to figure out what was doing on.
I became scared. Is she okay? Is she hurt? Will she die? I had no experience with something like this. As I had been quite aroused, I was somewhat upset with her. What the hell is this? You turn me on and then fall asleep? Yet I was more scared than mad.
I shook her. She was breathing softly. Good! She’s not dead. I buttoned her blouse, leaving the bra loose as it was. I smoothed down her skirt, pulled up her panties, and re-buttoned my clothes. She seemed in stable condition so I left to find help.
I didn’t know anyone and couldn’t find Chris or any brothers I had met. It was a terribly awkward moment. What do I do? Who do I tell? Or should I say nothing? Maybe I should simply leave her there? What is my responsibility in such a situation? It didn’t seem right to leave her alone. I was still somewhat scared she wasn’t safe.
I saw a guy I had met. He was drinking intimately with a woman. Sheepishly, I interrupted them and asked for help. I took both to the room where we had been making out. To them, this didn’t seem uncommon. They laughed that she had passed out. The guy slapped me on the back, chuckled, and said, “Too bad, dude!”
I went to bed alone and flew out the next morning. Never heard from or about the young woman again. It was simply a college hookup. I don’t remember much about her, but I’ve never forgotten how scared I was after she passed out. I had been educated not to drink. I hadn’t been trained for something like this. Scary, confusing and complex.
When I heard about Brock Turner’s experience, it brought back memories about my time with this nameless young coed at the University of Idaho. I wondered what would have happened had two international students from Sweden walked in at the “wrong” moment while we were making out.
My reputation would have been destroyed and my life ruined, although I did nothing wrong. As people were convicting Brock on social media, I cautioned they may not have all the facts. A dear cousin, Clark Collins, unfriended me for making my point. A couple female acquaintances unfriended me as well. There was no tolerance for dissent.
Of course, in the heightened emotional state surrounding the incident, my comments weren’t popular. Yet being popular has never been my goal. Had I wanted to be popular, I would have drank alcohol at 17 at the University of Idaho.
I had been raised to do the right thing. Was society doing the right thing with Brock? Nobody knows exactly what happened. The two witnesses appeared only near the end of the movie.
Beyond A Reasonable Doubt
I wrote to Alice Collings, a woman who was sure Brock Turner was guilty. I borrowed on my personal experience and described a “reasonable” scenario where Brock could be considered innocent of the allegations. Facebook removed the content and banned me for 30 days. They didn’t want any defense of Brock, it appears.
We are quick to assign guilt in our modern democracy. I know what happened to me. I’m so thankful I hadn’t been drinking. My mind was clear and this was a confusing incident.
Facebook REMOVED my story. How is this acceptable in a free society? My comments are educational. We must have the courage and ability to provide all sides to a story. It disturbs me when a social media platform controls information in this manner.
They seem to ALLOW what is popular, not what is necessary. Democracy is messy. Sometimes we must be honest with each other — even if this means telling the “dirty” truth about human interaction.
Please be careful before judging people you do not know. If you weren’t there, you can’t know. Sadly, those who weren’t there threw F-bombs at others if their opinion differed from theirs. Facebook seems to allow bullying and intimidation, as long as the one posting holds the favored position at the time. This is vigilante justice. It is dangerous!
UPDATE 2.24.18: Forwarded article to Sara Boboltz, Huffington Post
UPDATE 3.4.18: Neither write, Sara Boboltz nor Jason Green, responded to my email. It would seem “journalists” would be interested in my story.
Please be careful before you judge. You weren’t there. I wasn’t either. I was sexually assaulted at 17 by a drunk college coed. Please see my experience.
I doubt I’ll hear from her though. In my experience, HuffPost writers are NOT journalists. They are activists. Sara is likely not concerned about justice. She prefers to further division, anger and hatred in America. Let’s see if we hear from her. Sara? [crickets … no response] firstname.lastname@example.org
Forwarded article to Jason Green, The Mercury News, due to his article
Brock Turner appeals sexual assault conviction
By JASON GREEN | email@example.com | Bay Area News Group
PUBLISHED: December 2, 2017 at 12:45 am | UPDATED: December 4, 2017 at 6:57 pm
We want to protect women in American society; we want to protect men as well. I was sexually assaulted by a drunk college coed at 17. I could have been Brock. Please see my story. [crickets … no response]
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