

Never mind that Cristina Fierro was 16 years old. Never mind that she had been beaten by her trafficker, with fresh marks on her face, and was in a state of panic. Football Hall of Famer, Lawrence Taylor paid $300 to have sex with the teen, then twirled the used condom over his head like a lasso.
Fiero’s trafficker got seven years in prison. Taylor got a slap on the wrist: probation in his criminal case and acquittal of wrongdoing in the civil case verdict last month. (This was the first civil lawsuit to bring charges against a buyer of commercial sex with a child under the federal Trafficking Victims Protection Act, which defines any minor who is induced into the sex trade as a sex trafficking victim.)
The jury in the civil case ruled the sex consensual, even though Fierro was a minor and ignorance of age is not a defense against statutory rape in New York. Beyond meeting the conditions for statuatory rape, Fierro says she tried to stop Taylor from having sex with her because it hurt. “I kept telling him I didn’t want to be there,” she said. “He’s much bigger than me. I couldn’t do anything.” According to Taylor, she “didn’t seem to have a problem” and “didn’t tell me to stop.”
The experience left Fierro suicidal and in need of medication for anxiety and depression.
The day before the verdict, Taylor commented that he would continue to pay prostitutes for sex. The day of the verdict, Taylor chomped on a victory cigar and engaged in some classic victim blaming with his comment, “I hope she gets her life together.”
Human trafficking expert Dottie Laster wasn’t suprised by the verdict. She noted the contradiction between the jury feeling sorry for the victim, but believing a middle-aged man’s word over the testimony of a crying teen. “We live in a world where a child is blamed for her own commercial rape — where money excuses everything.”
It’s two days before Christmas, and many friends and family members are pulling their hair out with last-minute shopping as they brave the malls to scavenge bargain remains. Sound familiar? Many Americans put themselves in debt with holiday shopping, and 45% of Americans would prefer to skip Christmas altogether because the holiday “brings so much financial pressure.” According to a recent survey from Mental Health America, financial concerns top the list of holiday stressors.
All of this spending should make lots of people happy, right? Instead, according to the National Institute of Health, “Christmas is the time of year that people experience the highest incidence of depression.” Further, rates of suicide and attempted suicide rise.
If Christmas is so stressful and depressing for so many, and only 77% of Americans identify as Christians, it is surprising that virtually everyone in the U.S. (95%) celebrates this holiday. Perhaps we hold onto fond childhood memories of toys and candy and a jolly old man who magically delivers gifts to every house on the planet in one night.
I don’t celebrate Christmas because I’m not a Christian and I’m a not a consumerist. As a theological noncognitivist and a minimalist, it makes zero sense for me to celebrate this holiday. However, I can see the emotional benefits of family gatherings in the middle of winter to buoy spirits during the long, dreary months. Enter Kwanzaa.
If you’re looking for a great holiday celebration to supplement or replace existing traditions, Kwanzaa is the ideal commemoration of family bonds, community, and meaningful values. Created by Dr. Maulana Karenga in 1966, Kwanzaa is a non-religious, Pan-African and African-American holiday that means “first fruits” in Swahili. It was first celebrated during the turbulent 1960s to develop cultural awareness and unity in the African-American community, but, as this post on the Top Ten Misconceptions About Kwanzaa notes, it is “an African-American cultural celebration that is inclusive of anyone who shares its values.”
“Kwanzaa has always been about the celebration of values that transcend through racial boundaries. The seven principles of unity, self-determination, collective work/responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity, and faith; find purchase in the mind and hearts of everyone. These principles reinforce the concept of community – in a community – not just African-American ones.”
There is wide variation in family practice of Kwanzaa, but one central aspect is gathering with family each evening from December 26th through January 1st to discuss one of the seven principles or Nguzo Saba:
We would live in a much healthier, kinder world if everyone embraced these values. My personal favorites are collective responsibility (“to make our brothers and sisters problems our problems”) and cooperative economics (mindfulness about who benefits from how we spend our money.)
Many families also display a candle holder (Kinara) surrounded by fruit and other symbols of harvest, history, unity, love, and commitment. One candle is lit each evening to correspond with one of the seven principles.
In the past decade, scientific thought has converged in concluding that humans are a relatively new species with African origins. Or as I suggested (tongue in cheek) to the group of women living in the New Orleans Women’s Shelter who introduced me to Kwanzaa, “while not all Americans have experienced what it means to be black, all Americans are African-Americans.”
In all seriousness, as a so-called “white” person, it’s important to be cognizant of the fine line between cultural appropriation and appreciation when it comes to celebrating Kwanzaa. White privilege too often leads ”whites” to assume that everything is for us, a “privilege” that comes at the cost of our humanity. Marjorie Bowens-Wheatley acknowledges the extreme complexity of celebrating Kwanzaa in a public space:
”A radical position would be that Kwanzaa should be celebrated only by African Americans. A more liberal position would say that Kwanzaa cannot be celebrated authentically without African Americans leading the ritual, and that Whites who wish to participate as an act of solidarity can honor African Americans by substituting the word ‘yourselves’ for ‘ourselves.’ In either case, it needs to be stated clearly that Kwanzaa’s historical context is the suffering of African American people, and that the ritual is designed to affirm their commitment to self-renewal, self-reliance, self-determination, and self-redemption.”
One culturally appreciative way to celebrate Kwanzaa is with family members in the privacy of one’s home in a serious and respectful way that acknowledges the origins of the holiday without asserting “ownership” of the tradition. I can’t think of a better way to bring in the new year than to learn more about the history of the people who built the Capitol Building, the White House, the U.S. economy, and the world economy, while discussing edifying values with loved ones.
As we become a less religious nation, it is my hope that more Americans move away from consumerist Christmas to celebrate more meaningful holiday traditions, like Kwanzaa.
[Trigger Warning]
Your former best friend is the victim in the Steubenville, Ohio rape trial. She was very drunk and refused to leave that party with you last August when you were concerned about her safety. Three witnesses (who have received immunity) testified that she was so drunk she didn’t know what was happening to her that night. So drunk that she passed out. She was unaware that her incapacitated body was being carried around like a rag doll.
She was unaware that she would be raped in a car, then raped again when she was “passed out, naked, and face down on a basement floor.” As witness Anthony Craig put it, “She wasn’t moving, she wasn’t talking, she wasn’t participating.”
Your former best friend was so incapacitated in fact that party goer Michael Nodianos put on a 12-minute performance of mysogynistic masculinity where he talks about your former best friend as a “dead girl” (“deader than OJ’s wife”), describes students urinating on her, admits she was raped (“she is so raped right now”), and continues to joke about her being raped even after a concerned young man says “they raped her” and asks “what if that was your daughter?”
Your former best friend woke up naked in the basement the next morning and said she didn’t remember what had happened. Her conversations and text messages in the days following the incident confirm this.
Kelsey and Gianna, at the trial this week you testified against your former best friend, reporting that she has a history of drinking and telling lies, as though these facts somehow make her worthy of rape. When did you stop being her best friend? When did you decide that you would side with the alleged perpetrators in attacking her character, as though her actions somehow justified these heinous crimes?
Rape survivors often lose their friends when they “go public” with their experiences because they do not want to be branded with the social stigma that survivors face. According to Golden et al., “The continued judgment of, or distain for, victims of rape is a form of social stigmatization. Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for victims of rape or sexual assault to suffer not just from the attack but also from their treatment by their friends and relatives afterwards” (The Truth About Rape, 2010).
Kelsey and Gianna, you live in a football town where two football players have been charged with rape, and, thanks to the work of Anonymous, we know that coaches, school leaders, town leaders and law enforcement officers have circled the wagons around the alleged perpetrators. You live in a town where people routinely blame your former best friend for crimes perpetrated by others. As one coach put it, “The rape was just an excuse, I think …What else are you going to tell your parents when you come home drunk like that and after a night like that?”
It takes courage to stand with a friend when some of the slut-shaming and victim-blaming filth thrown at her will land on you. It takes bravery to public admit that even imperfect girls can be raped. It takes a certain brand of loyalty to stand with your best friend when you know she’s been wronged, even if it means you’ll lose male attention and other friends, and face ridicule at school.
But it is vitally important that the survivors of sexual assault and rape know they are not alone: 1-in-33 men, 1-in-10 people in prison, 1-in-6 women, 1-in-4 women in college, 1-in-3 women on reservations. I can only imagine the awful pressures you are facing right now, but I hope that you will soon find the courage, bravery, and loyalty to stand with your former best friend.
Almost half of the world’s population is younger than 25 years old, and it seems like everyone is talking about the Millennials but not talking to them. And it is even rarer that we hear from them. The generation gap is not a new concept, but when media reduce the multitudinous experiences of an entire generation to social media and laziness, it is high time they be included in the conversation. We all benefit from politically-minded, active, and knowledgeable youth who understand the forces that shape politics and media and know how to articulate and fight for what they believe in.
A group of young activists, organizers, and writers are elevating the voices of passionate, educated young people through an innovative new youth-led independent media project called {Young}ist. While the site hasn’t officially launched, they’ve already begun publishing pithy political and critical analysis and narrative journalism by and for young people around the world on their Tumblr. I encourage you to check it out, and if you believe in what they’re doing as much as I do, please support them by donating to their Indiegogo campaign. {Young}ist has almost met their fundraising goal of $12,000, but if they fall even $1 short, they’ll lose it all. Thanks in advance for your support of this important cause!