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Charlotte gazes lovingly at the photo of her and Cooper and contemplates how far she has come in this relationship. She, the unapologetically blunt, brazenly tough, Hospital Chief of Staff and Sex Therapist, is getting married and actually contemplating children. Suzy Homemaker she ain’t (her Southern drawl, not mine), and yet, the thought is oddly appealing. She packs her briefcase for the night and shakes her head at the absurdness of it all. Then, as she turns to lock her office door she is struck from behind and shoved back into her office. The air gets sucked out of the scene as we watch a dark-haired man drag a stunned Charlotte across the room while the silent screen fades to black.
After watching the last 30 seconds of Private Practice’s October 28th episode, I knew that the November 4th episode, “Did You Hear what Happened to Charlotte King?” was going to be tough to watch, but definitely a “must see” event. Apparently other audience members thought so too because last Thursday’s episode garnered ABC a 40% uptick in viewers and delivered 10.2 million in ratings for the episode . The odd thing is, I had no idea I would react to the way other viewers dismissed it as irresponsible television. What I thought was brilliant opportunity to explore a subject that leaves most people queasy when addressed; others felt outraged when Charlotte tells Addison in no uncertain terms, “No rape kit. He took my wallet. He didn’t take anything else.”
From start to finish, this episode is written very poignantly with every word skillfully chosen right down to the title. “Did you Hear What Happened to Charlotte King”, wasn’t entitled “Do You Know What Happened to Charlotte King” for a reason –unless you haven’t been there you don’t even begin to “know”. I’ve seen other peoples’ reactions to the episode on several blogs and hear their concerns at what sort of message that ABC is sending its viewers about rape. “Is ABC saying that we shouldn’t report a rape”? “How can I let my daughter watch this – what if this happens to her and she doesn’t report it”? “It is ABC’s responsibility to show a victim of this crime how to get help.” Having been a survivor of a sexual assault myself, I can understand some viewers’ frustrations with Charlotte’s decision not to report the crime. Yes, without her utilizing the Rape Kit and pressing charges, the rapist is still free to walk the streets and commit the crime over and over. But if Shonda Rhimes had written this episode like that it wouldn’t accurately reflect what happens when a women gets raped.
Charlotte stumbles into the Hospital’s supply closet and starts gathering gauss and tape. When Pete discovers her all bloodied and bruised, she’s attempting to dress her own wounds. She tries to deescalate Pete’s concern by explaining that she simply got beat up when some guy robbed her. After she stumbles and collapses into Pete’s arms she consents to having him help her – but will only do so if he tells the busy body Nurses at the door to get back to work. She knows she is beaten badly but she doesn’t want people hovering over her like she’s some victim. Charlotte’s not trying to hide her shame she is controlling the situation because that is the only way you can regain the dignity that was taken from you. Perhaps it’s irrational, and some will argue it’s proud and irresponsible, but even the most sensible among us who have suffered this trauma think, “This did not just happen to me. This happens to other people – not me”.
Anyone familiar with Private Practice knows that Charlotte is a no-nonsense ball-buster with a southern accent that is about as sweet and charming as Snookie is a MENSA candidate. She doesn’t do warm and fuzzy, and she definitely doesn’t do victim. To have her react any other way would be a complete incongruence to her character thus far in the series. Does she normally conduct herself by the rules? Yes. Does she appreciate order and structure and consequences to those who commit crimes? Yes. Does she understand the impact of her actions? Yes. But before you say, “then she should report it” ask yourself this: what about the impact to her? What about the impact to this carefully constructed persona she’s created where she meets every problem - every emotional and personal crisis - on her own terms. Before Charlotte’s assault she was audacious, and sexy, and fiery and, let’s face it, a little scary. If she runs to the police and admits she was the victim of a rape, it would singlehandedly destroy everything she created. If you think that is selfish it just means you have never been in her shoes. It doesn’t mean she won’t report it – in fact, she probably will in another episode. It just means that the number one reason why the majority of women do not report sexual assaults right away - or even at all – is because we don’t want to be a perceived as a victim. We want that audacity and that innocence back like it was before, and if we admit that this horrible act occurred, it will be gone forever.
Some of the best dialogue Shonda Rhimes has ever written occurs when Charlotte explains the horrors of rape to Addison. The description is so spot-on it felt like the words were taken directly from my mouth. Charlotte is right. Rape isn’t how it’s normally depicted on made for TV movies – you don’t have an outer body experience lifting you out of the reality, and there are no coping skills triggered that make you shut off your surroundings. Rape is ugly and dirty and has an acrid smell and taste. You’re acutely aware that this is happening, the names he is calling you, and the smirk on his face as he literally rips your flesh in places where flesh shouldn’t be torn. It’s sweaty, and barbaric, and there is a noxious air of terror, adrenaline, and alcohol or cheap cologne being sweated out of pores. Every muscle fiber in your body is spent and exhausted from putting up the fight of your life. As Charlotte gives the police a description of the man who robbed her, she can’t remember what he looks like, but she can envision in great detail what the thing he took from her felt like. You don’t remember the event as a start to finish occurrence. It comes back to you in flashes and you don’t remember what he wore or if he had any distinguishing characteristics because, ironically, the only coping skill that you actually do trigger is the ability to block out all the information needed for the police report. It may be years before she remembers that he wore khakis and a button down shirt, or that he had brown eyes – if she even remembers at all. Right now he is just a faceless monster.
As a survivor, the rape is a puzzle and a curse. You want to remember what happen and yet you hope you can forget. Each time you retell the instances of the event, you start to remember another piece of information. And each time you re-tell the experience to someone, you relive the scene. And each time you tell someone who cares about you that you were raped the air shifts and all of their pity, and guilt, and shame, are suddenly palpable – suddenly it becomes your new burden. You’re not seen as some brave little soldier that was a victim of bad circumstance - you’re seen as “less than” despite everyone’s protests and everyone’s efforts to show you that you aren’t. Then, after you’ve told your friends, or your family, or your loved one, you end up counseling them with their grief over what happened to you. You end up telling them that it wasn’t their fault that you were raped and that you’re fine and will be okay – even though you aren’t and won’t be for awhile. This instance was never so skillfully reflected as in the scene where Cooper walks in and sees Charlotte for the first time after the attack. He strides in with urgent concern then abruptly stops when he sees her battered face. He tries to turn around and collect himself but it’s no use. He collapses in her lap in grief, and Charlotte takes her one good hand and strokes his hair telling him that everything will be fine.
Yes, getting the Rape Kit and reporting the crime seems like the logical reaction for the victim but this is an episode based in reality. Nothing is logical about rape. It doesn’t follow a script, and there are no step-by-step instructions to deal with it. You’re first reaction isn’t always the logical one, it’s the one where you will find the most security and nine times out of ten it’s denying that the act ever occurred. People say a strong character like Charlotte would appear more empowered if she rose above all of this and reported the crime – but this is just another myth of made for TV rape scenarios. Admitting rape offers no empowerment in the real world. Should we report it right away? Yes, absolutely. Do we want to see the bastard pay for what he did to us? Hell yes. But in most cases of rape, the victim has to prove her story time and time again –prove they weren’t asking for it to begin with. This is especially true in cases, like mine, of date rape. In fact, in the majority of rape cases the victim is attacked by someone she already knows and her accusation becomes a battle of her word against his. There isn’t any empowerment in being called a liar – it just makes you want to retreat further and further into that land of denial.
In a few more episodes, I think you will see Charlotte come forward and report the rape. You will probably see this storyline develop in the reaction of her peers to the event and see how Charlotte’s attack affects her emotional and sexual relationship with Cooper. She and Cooper have always been very amorous and she has often times been the instigator of sex by simply walking into his office and demanding he pull down his pants. It will be interesting to see if she gets back to that point. Charlotte also is the Hospital administrator and works as a sexual therapist, so it will be interesting to see how this experience will change the way she treats her staff and her patients.
Charlotte’s process through this ordeal will also show the world how those of us who have been attacked have an uneasy relationship with the word “victim”. People who have been raped have almost a visceral reaction to the word. When Cooper offhandedly calls Charlotte a victim she flings her cup of water at him and threatens through clenched teeth, “If you ever call me the victim again this marriage is off”. In most cases, to be considered “victim” implies that the subject is weak and it is because of this that the individual was culled from the rest of the pack. In reality, most of the time this person has an untouchable spirit or a beauty the attacker wants to conquer to make him feel virile and vital. At this point, Charlotte sees her uniqueness as the item robbed from her. She’s not weak and never has been, but this strong and powerful essence has been taken none the less. Rationally speaking, the word “victim” is just a word, but to a rape survivor it’s a label demarking weakness. We don’t want to be seen as weak, or as something to be pitied – we just want our life back the way it was before.
Yes, rape should be reported right away and the charges should be taken seriously – but most of the time, it’s not a clear open and shut case like Charlotte’s. The attacker won’t have her blood all over his shirt and he won’t conveniently land in the psyche ward where Charlotte’s friend Sheldon can question him into a confession. Most of the time, the victim will know the rapist and will already have a friendly history established with that person. After she levels the accusation, she will have her character smeared and be called a liar. She’ll have to deal with the disbelief of those closest to her on top of everything else she’s experienced. Even if she wins and the rapist is convicted, there are still those close to her who will wonder if she wasn’t just making it up, or will imply that she deserved it, or think that she blew everything out of proportion. In some cases, it doesn’t feel like there is any justice for the survivor.
While it doesn’t make logical sense, don’t begrudge the victim if at first she exercises a little self-preservation and keeps what happened to her a closely guarded secret. You may have heard about what happened to Charlotte King, and you may think you have all the answers for her on what she should do– but unless you’ve been there, you don’t know what it is like.
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