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R E C E N T L Y

Small massacres
By Patrick Chamoiseau
A child in Martinique reaches into the dark corners of imagination with the miraculous force of fire
(03/09/99)

The walls around the garden
By Fiona Morgan
An interview with Tara Bahrampour, author of "To See and See Again: A Life in Iran and America"
(03/08/99)

Shy
By Caroline Knapp
After years of thinking my shyness only affected me, I realize the social impact of hiding in my living room with the shades drawn
(03/05/99)

Didgeridoo
By Anne Lamott
A new member of the big, comfy underpants set ponders why women are ostracized for "letting themselves go"
(03/04/99)

We believe you, Juanita (we think)
Susan Faludi, Susan Brownmiller, Katie Roiphe, Gloria Allred and others respond to Juanita Broaddrick's explosive charges
(03/03/99)

BROWSE THE MOTHERS WHO THINK FEATURE ARCHIVES

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Mamafesto
By Camille Peri
Why it's time
for Mothers Who Think

Why I didn't report my rape -- and I believe Juanita Broaddrick

BY JENN SHREVE | I hope the man who raped me never runs for public office. Then I would be forced to face the decision I made when it happened -- to cry on the shoulder of my best friend instead of filing a police report and putting my entire life on trial. To take a warm bath and scrub away the evidence instead of submitting my body, full of unwelcome fluids and pain, to an emergency room medical exam. To explore the ramifications of my experience through writing and therapy instead of turning myself into another case for an overworked social worker.

I did what 84 percent of women do when raped, according to a 1992 National Victim Center and Crime Victims Research and Treatment Center report: To preserve my own sense of sanity and privacy, and to protect myself from the pitying stares of co-workers, friends and family, I turned loose a rapist onto the streets.

I prefer to keep the details of what happened private. But you've heard my story before. We went on a date. He walked me home and asked to use my phone to call a cab. The only phone call made that night was after he left, when I called my closest friend, said I'd been raped and asked if he could please come over right away. I did not call the police. Instead I waited for my friend to arrive. After he did, I scrubbed away all the evidence as he sat outside my bathroom door.

It was a selfish choice, I'll admit that. But it's one I never thought about taking back until the day Juanita Broaddrick came forward. Her story forced me to examine my silence again. And after I did, I understood why I believed her.

N E X T_ P A G E: Did this really happen? And would I be able to convince a jury it did?

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