Sonic and Sexual Assault: You Just Gotta Take It

A few years ago, the fast-food chain Sonic and I had a brief run-in: they failed to add a cherry to my cherry limeade on multiple occasions.  This might seem insignificant (and let's be honest: it is), but in the middle of a chaotic day, a cherry limeade at lunch can make a world of difference, and savoring that chemical-filled maraschino cherry before my next class was an important part of my lunch ritual.

The first time it happened, I was disappointed but not ready to grab the pitchforks.  I went back the next day and ordered the same.  No cherry.  The third day, I politely requested a cherry limeade with a cherry, please.

No cherry.

Did you know that Sonic's website has link for comments and questions?  Did you know that if you submit a comment, you will hear back from the branch manager within 24 hours?

They called in the middle of my first hour class (and I answered, unsure of who was calling my school phone) and asked about the experience.  That call merits a post of its own, but ultimately, the manager offered me a free meal and a large limeade WITH a cherry.

Problem resolved.

My class, who were listening in, couldn't believe that I would make such a big deal over a cherry.  Frankly, neither could I, but I didn't admit it.  Instead, I explained that as a paying customer, I expect a certain level of service, and when that is violated, I feel that I have a right to demand restitution... even if it's just a cherry.  And, I pointed out, the company seems to agree, which is why they have that comment box in the first place.

They just shook their heads and muttered, "They're gonna spit in your drink, Miss.  You just gotta take it."

You just gotta take it.

Fast-forward to 2014.  I am still teaching inner-city kids, and they are still incredulous when I tell them this story, which I have now incorporated into a Julius Caesar / persuasive writing unit.  It's just a cherry, they say.

With a different audience, I might agree that it's just a cherry, but with many of my students coming from poverty, I can't and it isn't.  It is a representation of something much larger, and sometimes it is the difference between generational poverty and upward mobility.

Psychologists call it having an internal locus of control.  Others label it as a self-advocacy, versus a belief in fate or destiny.  Ruby Payne attributes it to the "hidden rules of class."  It is the acceptance of 'fate', she explains, that tends to dominate generational poverty. Things are the way they are, and you can't do much to change them.  She also explains that many times, those trapped in poverty go into survival mode and have few resources - physical or emotional - to deal with more than day-to-day existence. [Disclaimer:  Payne has recently been discredited in some circles, but many of her insights remain accurate.  Additionally, I realize that these statements may sound categorical, but believe me, I see exceptions in my classes every hour.]

I see all this every day in different forms, whether it is a missing homework assignment, an emotional outburst, or the passive acceptance of an unfair situation.

This condition has tragic consequences, some of which have rocked Oklahoma City this past month.

Few Oklahomans have been able to escape updates regarding the ongoing investigation into the allegations against Daniel Holtzclaw, the Oklahoma City police officer charged with 16 counts of sexual misconduct.  BuzzFeed published an article that examines the evidence and court proceedings in detail, and reading it makes me want to shrink into oblivion while simultaneously baring my teeth as an idealistic educator.

If you're not familiar with the situation, here is a summary:

• Police officer stops random African American women between the ages of 30 and 60 in a certain low-to-middle-income neighborhood in OKC.
• Once stopped, he checks their police records.  
• He then solicits sexual favors while threatening them with their records and/or his status as a police officer.
• He continues to harass certain women and expands his scope to others.

The BuzzFeed article claims that Holtzclaw was caught because he stopped the wrong woman "who, when he allegedly assaulted her, wouldn't hesitate to call the police."

The article goes on to suggest that one of the main reasons that these acts came to light was that this victim was an upstanding member of the middle class, unlike some of the other victims who had good reason to fear the authorities.  As such, she had the resources, confidence, and wherewithal to go to the police, and she did.  When no one answered her phone call, she and her daughter went to the station in person.  On the other hand, few of the other victims wanted to press charges at first, even when encouraged to do so.  

A friend of mine summarized it succinctly: "Because he chose poor black women that no one cared about until he got too bold."  Snarky?  Yes.  Abrasive?  Yes. True?  Yes.

This is based on comments from the prosecutor:  "Not only is this individual stopping women who fit a profile of members of our society who are confronted rightly or wrongly by police officers all the time," said Gieger.  "He identifies a vulnerable society that without exception except one have an attitude for 'What good is it gonna do?  He's a police officer.  Who's gonna believe me?'"

You just gotta take it.

As a teacher, I try to fight this attitude and this vulnerability every day.  I tell my girls, If he seems creepy, run - don't walk.  I tell the same thing to my guys.  I show them angry letters that I've written -- and sent -- and we talk about how and when to argue.  We talk about advertising, media bias, and subliminal messaging.  We talk about alternative actions our protagonists could have taken, and whether those solutions would work in our society today:

• Antigone ignores the law and follows her heart.  Then she stands up to the king and dies as a result.  Was she right? I ask.  Was it worth it?  When is it worth it?
• Brutus killed his friend and emperor.  What was his duty? I ask.  How far is too far?  When does strength turn into an abuse of power?  What would you do?
• In Candide, Voltaire mocks every issue known to Western civilization and then ends demurely:  "We must cultivate our garden." Is he right?  I ask.  What's YOUR garden?  What's it worth?  What happens when someone violates it?
• And in Night, Elie Wiesel's seminal Holocaust memoir, I ask bigger questions:  How does hatred develop and how do we fight it?  Do we have a moral obligation to help others?  What is bravery?

Check your grades, I say.  Argue your answers with me, I implore.  Ask questions and stand up for yourself, I exhort.  You are not a victim, and you cannot allow things to "just happen" you.  You make your own choices, and when others' actions affect you, you determine the extent of the damage as well as your own response.

I teach, and I hope that some of it sticks.  More than anything, I hope that my students never, ever have to face a situation like the Holzclaw investigation.  But in the worst case scenario, I hope that in 5 years -- or 50 years -- it will not be my girls who are testifying at trials like this, or if it is, I hope that they are the ones who called the cops.  I hope that they will be the ones hauling their mattresses around Columbia's campus until someone takes note of injustice.  And I hope that they do argue their grade with me after school.

You don't just take it.  

   "The one deep experience that distinguishes the social rich from the merely rich and those below is their schooling, and with it, all the associations, the sense and sensibility, to which this education routine leads throughout their lives.  As a selection and training place of the upper classes, both old and new, the private school is a unifying influence, a force for the nationalization of the upper classes." 

- C. Wright Mills, The Power Elite

(emphasis added)