Surviving R. Kelly

by Molly Bryant
Guest Columnist

Last month, the channel Lifetime released a series called “Surviving R. Kelly” about the music industry’s worst kept secret surrounding R&B singer R. Kelly’s serial sexual abuse of young girls. For many, the documentary was not a revelation but a confirmation of decades of stories of inappropriate sexual behavior, assaults, and even sex trafficking rings in his own home.

It is also a painful reminder that young African American girls are too often not taken seriously when they courageously report sexual assaults.

Over 60 percent of black girls will have survived sexual abuse before the age of 18, which is six times higher than the general population. The majority of those abusers, overwhelmingly men, were trusted friends or family members, like R. Kelly (Black Women’s Blueprint, 2011).

Despite the staggering numbers, sexual assaults are still vastly underrepresented in the statistics. Research shows that “for every black woman that reports her rape, at least 15 Black women do not report theirs,” (Hart and Rennison, 2003).

In addition to other barriers, the fear of disclosing abuse and turning over a black man, whom you probably know and love, to law enforcement is a legitimate and powerful deterrent for so many people within the black community.

If you think law enforcement is likely to harm your uncle, maybe even kill him physically, many survivors will choose not to disclose to protect their abuser from physical harm. It makes sense for survivors, and yet it adds another layer to the secrecy surrounding sexual assaults.

The further a survivor’s identity is from a young, thin, upper class, cisgender, heterosexual woman who is assaulted by a stranger in an alleyway, and the less likely a survivor will be believed by society.

For example, a juror in R. Kelly’s case described why he sided with R. Kelly, “I just didn’t believe them, the women. I know, it sounds ridiculous. The way they dress, the way they act, I didn’t like them. I disregarded all of what they said.”

Furthermore, transwomen of color have an average life expectancy of 35, and that ties directly to the frequency and severity of sexual violence in their lifetime.

Human Rights Campaign states, “Black transgender women face the highest levels of fatal violence within the LGBTQ community and are less likely to turn to the police for help for fear of revictimization by law enforcement personnel.”

In addition to fearing that their abusers will be victimized by law enforcement, high rates of revictimization by law enforcement to the survivors themselves is another reason that so many assaults go unreported and so many survivors never seek the help and safety that they need.

This article is profoundly incomplete and can, in no way, unpack all that needs to be unpacked, but thankfully, there are countless people much better equipped than myself who unpack it all on a regular basis.

I encourage anyone interested in learning more about these issues to watch the series “Surviving R. Kelly,” get involved with the organization Black Women’s Blueprint, follow Tarana Burke on Twitter, and Google the term “misogynoir.” I also encourage you to pay attention to your instincts, believe survivors, and don’t base their credibility on what you think a survivor should look like, act like, and how they dress.

Molly Bryant, MSW is the Underserved Outreach Advocate t Domestic Violence Intervention Services (DVIS) in Tulsa, OK. For domestic violence or sexual assault assistance, call DVIS at (918) 743-5763.

References: Black Women’s Blueprint. (2011). “Critical Participatory Research.” Hart & Rennison. (2003). Bureau of Justice Statistics Special Report. Human Rights Campaign. (n.d.) “Being African American and LGBTQ.” Green, Adrienne. (2017, June 29). “How Black Girls Aren’t Presumed to be Innocent.” The Atlantic.

Copyright The Gayly – February 26, 2019 @ 10 a.m. CST.