Issue 4 Volume 2 by On The Record

BY AND FOR THE YOUTH OF LOUISVILLE • VOLUME 4 • ISSUE 2 • SPRING/SUMMER 2019

A F TER MAT H

DON’T SHADE MY SHADE

silent skintone bias

WHAT IF IT HAPPENS TO ME? assault beyond the statistics

P. 19

periods in prison

P. 06

NOT OVARY-ACTING

P. 43

IN THIS ISSUE:

Spring 2018

ON THE RECORD

Fall/Winter 2018

SPRING/SUMMER 2019

CONTENTS 6 11 16 19 24 26 30 32 37 40 43

THE SILENT BIAS

How skin-tone bias affects our community.

OUT TO PLAY Local drag queens use fashion and persona to challenge traditional ideas about gender.

MY SCHOOL, YOUR RULES What you need to know about recent education legislation.

ON THE RECORD is a newsmagazine by and for the youth of Louisville. In 2015, this publication transitioned from the Crimson Record, a tabloid-size school newspaper for the duPont Manual High School community, to a citywide magazine that focuses on in-depth storytelling and distributes throughout Louisville schools and businesses. Our mission is to produce quality local journalism for a Louisville audience from the important but often overlooked youth perspective. All content is planned, written, edited, photographed, and designed by students. Advertising pays for our printing and production, so please contact our ad team if you would like to advertise or subscribe: ontherecord@manualjc.com

1 IN 5

CLOSE UP: Jena Quesada’s daughter, Thea, leans in as she talks about her feelings about her mom. Photo credit: YSA LEON

After sexual assault, you have options.

3 IN 4 The voices on the other end of sexual assault crisis hotlines.

1 IN 12,000 A woman born of rape explores the definition of family.

KENTUCKY GREEN GRASS Should the bluegrass legalize green grass?

LOST IN TRANSLATION Pressure to assimilate can cause rifts between immigrants and their children.

KENTUCKY’S LGBTQ HISTORY The often-forgotten history of Louisville’s LGBTQ community.

CUT! Start your film career here in Kentucky.

STAINED BY A SENTENCE In Kentucky prisons, the hygiene needs of women are sometimes overlooked.

TRUE COLORS: Michael Snyder, 18, a senior member of St. Francis High School’s Gay Straight Alliance, dances at the Speed Art Museum. Photo credit: MARSHALL GAULT

ACTION: WKU students film “Whisper,” a horror movie by WKU junior Anna Raker in Warsaw, Kentucky. Photo credit: YSA LEON Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

Spring/Summer 2019

STAFF EDITOR-IN-CHIEF AUDREY CHAMPELLI MANAGING EDITOR LUCY CALDERON CREATIVE DIRECTOR OLIVIA BROTZGE ASSOCIATE EDITOR MATTIE TOWNSON

FROM THE EDITOR

SOCIAL MEDIA EDITOR JEDIAH HOLMAN NEWS DIRECTOR MAGGIE MITCHELL

DEAR READERS,

COPY EDITOR SKY CARROLL

This issue was one of the most challenging we’ve ever attempted. Along with all of the writing, rewriting, designing, and editing that goes into anything we produce, the main package of this issue required a significant emotional investment. We’ve touched on the topics of rape and sexual assault before, though mostly indirectly. We’ve mentioned it in pieces about the president, we’ve tiptoed around it when covering female reproductive health, but this time, we’re addressing it head on. We’re shining a light directly on the stories of real people and their real experiences, and I’ll be honest, some of it might be tough to read. So take your time, take breaks. We’ll be here when you get back. In this magazine you’ll also find stories about Louisville’s drag scene, the local film industry, skin-tone bias — things relevant to our community and the young people in it. Because that’s why we’re here: to give a youth perspective to issues that concern youth. If you’re interested in learning more, you can always visit us online at ontherecordmag.com for exclusive content and updates.

AUDREY

MULTIMEDIA SPECIALIST NOAH KECKLER MARKETING TEAM MAYA MALAWI (DIRECTOR), MAGGIE STINNETT (DIRECTOR), ALANA FIELDS ASSIGNMENT EDITORS YSA LEON, EVAN SHOWALTER, ELLA TREINEN, ALI SHACKELFORD WRITERS FAITH LINDSEY, ANABEL MAGERS, LILLIAN METZMEIER, ALAURYN MOORE, CLAIRE ROONEY, ANNIE WHALEY, SYLVIA CASSIDY, MADDIE CURRIE, KATIE CUMMINS DESIGNERS EVELYN WALFORD, GEFEN YUSSMAN, MAGGIE GEDIMAN, PATRICK HARPER, AMAL HASSAN

MULTIMEDIA NOAH GREBE ADVISER LIZ PALMER

THE EDITORIAL BOARD

SKY

PHOTOGRAPHY SPECIALIST MIA BREITENSTEIN, MCKENNA CONWAY

PHOTOGRAPHERS MARSHALL GAULT, LAINEY HOLLAND

BEST,

LUCY

DESIGN SPECIALIST JESS MAYS

MAGGIE

JEDIAH

MATTIE

OLIVIA Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

THE SILENT BIAS

DIVIDE • Destyne Curtis, a 16-year-

old sophomore at Louisville Male High School, shows her natural tone on the left. But, on the right, the lighter hue represents the projection of society’s beauty ideals — in an imitation of ads where similar graphics are commonly used to market skin lightening creams. “I vowed to myself that I would stay true to my skin tone no matter how much society didn’t like it at the time,” Curtis said. Photo credit: FAITH LINDSEY;

Illustration: AMAL HASSAN ON THE RECORD

Spring/Summer 2019

The color fixed in our skin carries burdens, pains, and stigmas all in silence. words and design by AMAL HASSAN

hroughout life, Faith Evanson, a 16-year-old junior at duPont Manual High School, has been haunted by one word: dark. Even when there’s background noise, she automatically tunes into this word. “I naturally search for it,” Evanson said. “I just look around and assume people are talking about me.” Her experience with the word began early with indirect whispers. But in first grade, Evanson was directly confronted with the darkness of her skin. In her cluttered classroom, dozens of markers and coloring supplies covered the tables and floors. Crayons in hand, Evanson prepared to draw the light-skinned boy that sat in front of her. He did the same. Unlike her giggling partner, she was concentrated on her artwork. After a while, she was curious about his laughter and asked to see what he drew. But he kept the paper close to his chest. When he did show her, she was faced with a blob of black crayon. The black hole strewn across the page sucked her in, and she couldn’t help but stare. For the first time, Evanson saw a reflection of herself from the outside, one that embodied darkness. All of her frustration culminated into the question, “Is this me? Is this supposed to be me?” The boy laughed it off. “When I was upset, he dismissed me,” Evanson said. “For the rest of the year, he wouldn’t let it go, and everyone thought it was so funny.” Those moments of teasing culminated into hyper awareness of her skin color. “I’ve always been the darkest person in the room,” Evanson

said, “and it sucks that I had to realize it in first grade.” This new awareness put the weight of alienation on the shoulders of her self confidence: “From the beginning of middle school and back, I always felt that if I were a little bit lighter that people would like me more.” This desire to be accepted as beautiful in society’s rigid standards has constantly plagued youth of color. As a person of color, I noticed from a young age: we are forced to recognize the color of our skin causing us to carry an omnipresent awareness of our otherness. At the time, Evanson did not know this suffocating societal pressure had a name: colorism.

What is Colorism? Colorism is defined as the discrimination or bias against individuals with darker complexions, especially among those of the same racial or ethnic group. After Pulitzer Prize-winning author Alice Walker first coined the word in 1982, colorism joined the list of society’s “-isms” — ideologies that use prejudice to establish dominance. Society has built a hierarchy of skin tones by honoring lightness and degrading darkness. According to Calla Reed, a former JCPS student published in the peer-reviewed journal, Young Researcher, colorism is often unrecognized because its indirect nature presents itself as more “socially acceptable.” While racism comes externally through interactions with others, colorism is deeply rooted in communities of color most affected by racism. The internalized nature of colorism causes it to be less acknowledged in our society.

For example, when people tell a young girl “she’s pretty for a dark skin girl,” they see it as a compliment, but for her, the deeprooted meaning is that dark does not equal beautiful. In communities of color, we constantly associate darkness with such negativity that we begin to separate it from our notions of beauty.

“I always felt that if I were a little bit lighter that people would like me more.” -Faith Evanson, 16 As a Somali-American, growing up, I would hear phrases like, “pretty white skin,” and “oh, you got so dark,” and “don’t stay outside for too long.” These words culminated into a loss of connection with my skin, and built the idea that darkness stood opposite to beauty. No matter our race or ethnicity, people can always see the color of our skin, a biological truth. Skin color is one of the many fixed characteristics that determine how individuals are treated in this society.

Roots of the Silent Bias Margaret Hunter, a sociology professor who researches the effects of colorism and racial discrimination, explained colorism in the United States grew from slavery. On plantations, the slave masters built a hierarchy of skin tones to further divide the AfricanAmerican people. When the white slave masters exploited and raped the enslaved black women, they created a new, biracial group of people. Although the slave owners Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

did not consider their offspring to be equals, their lighter skin did provide them privileges unavailable to others. They were able to work indoors while the darker-skinned slaves labored outdoors in the scorching sun. With the development of these color divisions, the U.S. deeply rooted colorism into its society.

“I was careful because I saw their scars.” -Deeqo Ahmed Similarly, Hunter found in many countries around the world, “colorism takes root from European colonialism.” On the highly colonized continent of Africa, communities formed a deep hatred of their dark skin. In Latin America, the white Europeans used the fairer toned “mestizos” to subjugate the natives and the African slaves. Within South and Southeast Asian communities, people generally associate lighter skin with their colonizers who represented high-class and beauty. Left over from the legacy of colonialism, intrusive advertising of European aesthetics has encouraged these people to lighten their natural skin tones. SCAR • Deeqo Ahmed, 29, displays scars she received from her

attempt at skin bleaching. In her hand, she holds a skin-lightening product popular worldwide. Photo Credit: MIA BREITENSTEIN.

ON THE RECORD

Spring/Summer 2019

Its Shade on Society Today In advertising, colorist images sometimes appear alongside products. Whenever women of color are represented, they are often “whitewashed,” with lighter makeup, straighter hair, lightcolored contacts, and thinner bodies. For example, L’Oreal had an ad in 2008 featuring a picture of Beyonce that was excessively lightened through Photoshop— the color of her skin had been washed away. Many companies use this marketing to promote colorist ideals by branding their products as skin-lightening or brightening, rather than the reality, damaging skin-bleaching. Whitenicious, among these companies, is based in Nigeria where 77% of women use skin-bleaching products. One full-body skin-lightening cream by Whitenicious costs $800, just a little under the average rent price in Louisville. In late 2018, the reality TV star Blac Chyna visited Lagos, Nigeria to promote her skin-lightening cream. Deeqo Ahmed, a 29-year-old Somali-American, has found this bleaching mentality engrained in both Africa and its diaspora. “By showing this dangerous kind of thinking, Blac Chyna is getting money from the harm of the African people,” Ahmed said. “We have struggled with this hatred, and people just take advantage of that.”

When she arrived in Louisville as a teenager, Ahmed grew up in the diverse immigrant and refugee community. She shared the experience of adjusting to American life with them. “There was this pressure in the people,” Ahmed said. “The pressure to change and fit in.” For some youth in the African diaspora, their skin can be confining, so they turned to skin lightening to feel accepted. “All my friends wanted to be light skinned and they would always tell me to try it, too,” Ahmed said. “So, one day, I thought I should give it a shot.” However, instead of immediately applying the white cream to her sensitive face, Ahmed rubbed it onto her arm. “I was careful because I saw their scars,” Ahmed said. After only one day of its application, the cream began eating away at her skin like a fire. Ahmed gained a new scar. The darkened splotches embedded in her skin are a reminder of the words that once hurt her. “I was really terrified. I would never ever try it again,” Ahmed said. “It is not worth it for them to go through that kind of pain — all over your body to be different colors and your actual skin to be peeling off.” Skin bleaching products usually contain hydroquinone, corticosteroids, or even mercury.

“Do you not think they have a right to be angry?” Vasser said. “And is it really anger? Or, is it because as a black woman, I am always having to prove my worth? I’m always having to speak louder because I am used to not being heard.”

The Youth

FAMILY • Ahmed and her three-year-old daughter, Safiya, giggle and play in the living room while wearing their traditional clothing. “I want my daughter to know that her skin color is beautiful, that her hair is beautiful, and that she is a diva. I would never want her to change who she is.” Photo Credit: LAINEY HOLLAND. According to the World Health Organization, these ingredients are linked to health risks such as scarring, skin thinning, skin discoloration, kidney damage, and birth defects. In the U.S., injuries from skin bleaching are relatively underreported and under-researched. In countries where people of color are the main demographic, companies advertise skin bleaching to profit from people’s self-hatred. Without the regular inclusion of darker-toned actresses in the traditional media, the trend of dark not being beautiful inevitably feeds self-hatred. Although there have been strides to have a more diverse screen, lighter skinned actresses dominate the television and film industries. At the Beautycon festival in 2018, singer and actress Zendaya used her platform to expose the colorism in Hollywood. “I am Hollywood’s acceptable version of a black girl and that has to change,” Zendaya said. “We’re vastly too beautiful and too

interesting for me to be the only representation of that.” Usually, whenever there is a darker-skinned AfricanAmerican character, Hollywood casts a lighter toned actress. For example, in the movie, “The Hate You Give,” the casting of Amandla Stenberg was controversial because she has a lighter complexion than the darkerskinned character, Starr Carter. Often overcast by a lighter-skinned lead, darker characters fall victim to negative stereotyping. Media brands the darker women to be “loud,” “angry,” and sometimes, “unfeminine.” To society, these women will always be the “angry black woman” when she expresses her opinion. According to Marian Vasser, Director of Diversity Education & Inclusive Excellence at the University of Louisville, this destructive generalization causes black women to become somewhat complacent with how society treats them.

Due to media reinforcement of colorism, stereotypes can be easily internalized by viewers. Not only do media integrate stereotypes into the minds of the masses, but they are psychologically and socially damaging for people of color as well. Media influence attitudes about race from a young age, especially when direct contact with a group is limited. Through film and television, children can learn about what they may not have personally experienced. Children are impressionable and more likely than adults to perceive the media’s depiction of the world as reality. So, the damages of these stereotypes could be subconsciously carried throughout their lives.

“And, is it really anger? Or, is it because as a black woman, I am always having to prove my worth? I’m always having to speak louder because I am used to not being heard.” -Marian Vasser For Ryane Jones, a 17-year-old junior at Sacred Heart Academy and the founder and president of their Black Student Union, colorism was unavoidable as a child. “When we’re younger, we don’t know what we are talking about. We say what we hear from our parents or from the media,” Jones said. “As children, I feel like what we hear and what we say is Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

so important in to how we develop and the ideas that we form.” This idea was tested by two African-American psychologists, Kenneth and Mamie Clark, who studied children’s attitudes toward race through dolls. The well-known study built a precedent for studies on the effects of colorism on children. They asked children, both black and white, to select a doll, the “white” baby or the “black” baby, in response to questions. Over and over, the children, as young as five and six, preferred the lighter-skinned dolls referring to them as always prettier, always smarter, and always nicer. Constantly, we are exposed to the predominantly white media which foregrounds biased ideals. The negative responses from the black children towards the darkskinned doll verified that they held internalized racism. At a young age, colorist attitudes infiltrate children’s minds, causing them to perpetuate those ideals among their peers. “In elementary school, other kids would say things like burnt

biscuit, or just burnt,” Evanson said. “It was like the mantra of colorism.” From this constant teasing, children with darker skin are more likely to have lower self-esteem as they grow older. As a result of colorism, African-Americans reported poorer mental health when they were discriminated against by their black peers than when faced with discrimination from white people. “I would say there becomes this kind of feud,” Jones said. “And, it hurts us more than we realize.” The development of this tension between light and dark tones creates an unbroken cycle that constantly breeds colorism in minority youth.

Movement to Acceptance The double-edged nature of social media allows it to be both a platform used to fight colorism, and one used to spread colorist ideas. On social media, the division in the African-American community is reflected in the hashtags like “#teamlightskin” and “#teamdarkskin.”

HIERARCHY • As an individual

learns to love their skin color, the importance of upholding a lighter ideal begins to fade from their mind. Illustration by Amal Hassan. Photos by Faith Lindsey.

ON THE RECORD

Spring/Summer 2019

The recognition of this disunity has pushed many people of color to join movements, like “#blackgirlmagic” and “#blackboyjoy,” as a way to celebrate every individual. “Now the word is out there that black has always been beautiful and that darker skin is beautiful,” Jones said. “We are all beautiful together no matter how light or dark your skin is.” From this powerful conversation, the appreciation of dark skin beauty on social media has begun to translate into traditional media — television, film, and magazine. Today, there are more notable dark skin models and actors scoring lead roles, like Lupita Nyong’o, Mahershala Ali, and Viola Davis. For Faith Evanson, the rise of women who challenge the social norms of colorism has been inspiring. “Lupita Nyong’o. She embraces her blackness, and I find that so powerful,” Evanson said. “I find it incredible that she doesn’t sacrifice any part of herself in front of the media.” The exposure of individuals proud of their dark skin starts the development of a self love in the youth of color. Vasser believes that the journey to loving yourself is difficult because from a young age we have only learned how to hate ourselves. This change will not happen overnight because the building of that resolve begins with us and no one else. In this selfgrowth, Jones finds that small affirmations play a huge role. By looking at yourself in the mirror and acknowledging that you’re beautiful, you are beginning to embrace your beauty. “I think that no matter what the standard is, create your own standard,” Jones said. “And your standard should be yourself.” •

OUTto PLAY words & photos by MCKENNA CONWAY design by PATRICK HARPER

THESE LOUISVILLE DRAG QUEENS ARE BREAKING NORMS AND SERVING LOOKS.

he art of drag — stylized entertainment where people dress as women and sing or dance — is always changing. Queens continuously play with gender through different fashion and performance styles, which has brought drag to the forefront of our pop culture. I got to know four unique drag queens who exemplify drag’s beauty and variability. Frequently performing at local venues such as Play and Le Moo, they contribute a dynamic energy to our community. To see the full photo story, visit ontherecordmag.com. Spring/Summer 2019 ON THE RECORD

USHTEL H. VALENTINE Ushtel, 25, has always loved dance, and sees drag as a way to showcase her art as well as express her femininity. When she first began performing, she would find herself going to Waterfront Park after shows in order to let go of pent up stress. “You have never seen the most ridiculous thing as a fully dressed drag queen sliding down a toddler slide in heels, hair, and makeup.” 12

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Dolly, 23, has always been obsessed with dolls and owns over 200 of them. When it comes to drag, she feels like she’s “cracked the code” in finding her passion. “The novelty of being able to go to Walmart at three a.m. in full drag — and just the stares and the looks.”

DOLLY PARTS Spring/Summer 2019

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Gemma, 24, acknowledged the sisterly attitude amongst queens and their ability to support each other. She’s naturally very bubbly, but turns the dial way up during her performances. “Gemma, the character, is kind of dumb and ditsy, but to pull off dumb and ditsy, you have to be really smart.”

GEMMA NAI 14

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SOPHIA SANTANA

Sophia, 21, loves costuming and works in the Uuniversity of Louisville costume shop. She would describe her drag persona as a weird heiress who makes her own clothes. “I’ve always admired the type of drag queens who could say, ‘I’ve made everything you’re looking at, I styled this hair, I did this makeup, I made this dress.’”

MY SCHOOL YOUR RULES checking back in

AFTER A CHAOTIC SEASON IN FRANKFORT, HERE’S WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW. words by AUDREY CHAMPELLI • design by JESS MAYS

Well, it was a heck of a year for education issues. From sickout days to bill summaries to teacher organizations and splinter groups, there were a lot of complex issues for a single student to try to follow and understand. We had questions and and we know you do too. What’s a “sickout” and how is that different from a strike? What exactly were the teachers protesting? How do the different pieces of legislation affect us and our schools? And how does the potential state takeover factor into all of this? Read below for descriptions of some the most heavily contested Kentucky state legislature bills (HB means “House bill” and SB means “Senate bill”) and an explanation of their different outcomes. Then, visit us online at ontherecordmag.com for the answers to your questions, a look at the reporting we did in Frankfort, and updates on developing issues.

HB 205

HB 525

This bill would have offered to give people money back on their taxes if they made a donation to private school scholarship funds. Public school teachers and administrators were against it because it would leave less money in the budget for already-underfunded public schools. Sponsors: House Majority Leader John Carney, R-51; Chad McCoy, R-50; Kevin

This would have restructured the board in charge of the Kentucky Teacher Retirement System (KTRS). This bill would have resulted in giving the Kentucky Education Association, a statewide organization made up of teachers, less representation and would have added positions for other education groups and a governor-appointed accountant.

Bratcher, R-29; Richard Heath, R-2; Adam Koenig, R-69; Jerry Miller, R-36; David Osborne, R-59; Sal Santoro, R-60; Walker Thomas, R-8

Sponsor: Ken Upchurch, R-52

SB 250

SB 3

Senate Bill 250 gives the Jefferson County Public Schools superintendent greater authority, including the power to make the selection of a school’s principal by a school-based council subject to the superintendent’s approval, which reduces the council authority.

Similar to SB 250 but applicable to the entire state, this bill would have reduced the number of teachers on school councils and given the superintendent more authority over teacher appointments and transfers. In other words, school councils would have less control over who’s working in their school.

Sponsor: Julie Raque Adams, R-36.

Sponsors: John Schickel, R-11; Mike Wilson, R-32; Danny Carroll, R-2; David Givens, R-09; Dan Seum, R-38; Stephen West, R-27

SB 8

WHAT’S NEXT

STATUS: DEAD

STATUS: PASSED

When teachers are ﬁred, they can undergo a hearing called a tribunal. Among other things, this bill limits the tribunal’s power so that they can only either uphold or overturn the superintendent’s decision instead of recommending lesser consequences. Sponsors: Stephen West, R-27; Richard Alvarado, R-28; Danny Carroll, R-2; Mike Wilson, R-32; David Givens, R-9

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STATUS: DEAD

STATUS: STALLED IN HOUSE

Kentucky Education Commissioner Wayne Lewis asked for a list of names of teachers who called in sick on the various protest days, and JCPS provided it. It’s still unclear whether teachers will get in any trouble, but a Kentucky Labor Cabinet investigation is currently underway. Matt Bevin continues to be highly critical of teachers’ actions, but many other politicians and gubernatorial candidates have publicly supported them.

1 in 5 women will face sexual assault in their lifetime.

1 in 12,000 98secs.

products of rape are born every year.

3 in 4 3,090

untested rape kits.

of sexual assaults are unreported.

aftermath. 48 ON THE RECORD Spring 2018

These are stories about what happens after. After an assault. After a rape. After trauma. These are stories from people who have moved on from tragedy, but still feel the effects every day.

AFTERMATH These are stories about the

TABLE OF CONTENTS p.19

1 IN 5

women have been sexually assaulted in their lifetime.

p.24

3 IN 4

sexual assaults are unreported.

p.26

1 IN 12,000

of the children born from rape each year. 18

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1 IN 5

women have been sexually assaulted in their lifetime.

Photo credit: MIA BREITENSTEIN

The “me too” movement is on the forefront, but the grueling process of getting justice remains in the shadows. words by ALAURYN MOORE and ELLA TREINEN • design by GEFEN YUSSMAN

hey step into the Center of Women and Families (CWF) in a detached state of shock, in tears, or in an effort to behave as normally as they know how. They might miss class because they couldn’t stand to walk

across the street and see their perpetrator. While their peers decide whether to study for their math final, they are deciding whether or not to testify against their assaulter in court. These are the kinds of situations Amy Turner, the Director for Sexual Assault Services at the

CWF, describes dealing with every day. They are the experiences of Olympic gymnasts, up and coming vocal artists, and maybe even the woman that lives next door. It was a fleeting moment in their youth that altered the course of the rest of their lives — they are victims of alleged sexual assault. Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

These women aren’t anomalies within our current youth population. According to the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (RAINN), females ages 16-19 are four times more likely than the general population to be victims of rape. Teenage girls are at the forefront of this issue, and it’s a difficult issue to conquer. An assault occurs every 98 seconds in the U.S. according to RAINN; sexual assault is almost commonplace in our society. It has caused perpetrators of the women listed above — like Larry Nassar, USA Gymnastics national team doctor and child molester —to stand against women’s accusations and behind a podium in court. Even President Trump has been accused of sexual harassment and assault, telling television personality Billy Bush to “grab em’ by the pussy” on the set of “Days of Our Lives.” With rape being the most underreported crime according to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, women have begun to create an environment of empowerment and bravery that encourages victims to step from the shadows and declare, “me too.”

“The movement gives people the ability to see that they are fighting for themselves and they are fighting for other women,” said Jenny Kuerzi, Crisis Counselor at the CWF in an interview with OTR. Despite this surge of motivation pushing women to come forward with stories of sexual assault, there is a knowledge gap regarding what this can entail. Putting a perpetrator behind bars is an arduous and potentially re-victimizing experience. It may force a victim to have to recount the painful memories of their sexual assault. A trial can consist of the collection of concrete evidence which comes from a rape kit, although that’s not the route that all women choose to take. WHAT IS A RAPE KIT?

A rape kit is a package used by Sexual Assault Nurse Examiners (SANE) to preserve physical evidence following an alleged sexual assault. Inside are directions, a comb, bags, paper sheets, swabs, envelopes, documentation forms, and other materials used for DNA samples. Just because a victim gets a rape kit processed does not mean there will be a match to a perpe-

ON DISPLAY • a deconstructed rape kit laid out step-by-step. Photo credit: LAINEY HOLLAND

20 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

trator’s DNA in the criminal database, although the rape still could have occurred. A woman can get a rape kit at no cost for any instance pertaining to sexual assault. Despite the name, rape kits could be useful in any of the crimes that fall under the umbrella term of sexual assault. Kuerzi defines sexual assault as harassment, touching without consent, and penetration without consent. However, rape kits are more commonly used in rape cases because that’s where evidence collection becomes most necessary. It is rare that women come forward with their rape and get a rape kit tested immediately, if at all. According to RAINN, three out of four cases of sexual assault go unreported. When a person chooses not to get a rape kit, there is still hope in finding bits of evidence, but the best chance for a prosecution is for a woman to report and get tested right away. THE RAPE KIT PROCESS

A victim of sexual assault can choose to either go to the police or a hospital, and the procedure is a little different for each of these places. If the victim chooses to go to a local organization, like the CWF or a hospital, a SANE will come in and obtain a thorough medical history. The victim stands on a large sheet of paper while undressing in order to catch any hair or fiber that may fall from his or her body — they can’t risk losing any possible evidence. “The thing that is really important to me is choice. Throughout this entire process, the choice to be able to decline it or go through with it needs to be their decision,” Kuerzi said. Nurses do their best to make sure their patient is informed and comfortable, but in this situation, it’s difficult to keep the process from being invasive. The victim’s

clothing and the sheet are collected for testing of hair, fibers, and any additional evidence. Depending on the victims recollection of the assault, they can choose what parts of the examination they would like to participate in. These options include: urine, blood, and semen samples; swabbing the mouth, vagina, and anus; combing through and sampling body hair; scraping under the fingernails for remnants of skin cells if the victim tried to fight back. When there is physical evidence of violence, the nurse can photograph those bruises, bumps, and scratches for documentation. For some, the rape kit process brings a sense of alleviation and care, but for others, it can be a distressing repetition of the vulnerability felt by the victim during the sexual assault. WHAT IF IT HAPPENS TO ME?

In the event that you are sexually assaulted and want to get tested, there are a couple of things crisis counselors advise you to refrain from doing. Victims should not change clothes or shower, even though it may be your first instinct. Eating and going to the bathroom also may tamper with evidence that could be necessary in a court case, but it’s for you to decide. Counselors and nurses understand that it can be difficult for women to steer away from doing the things that may provide comfort in this moment of consternation. At the CWF, a SANE will conduct a rape kit examination. All hospitals are required to have SANE on site, but UofL is the only hospital in Louisville that has them available all 24 hours. If you have a rape-related health issue that may put you in immediate danger, you lose the choice in whether or not you want to do the kit. The hospital must admit and test you. Whether or not you’re sure you have been raped or sexually assaulted, you can still call the

CWF or have a rape kit tested within 96 hours of the assault. It is important that you trust what your body is telling you; the sense of discomfort and fear that someone may be struggling with after a sexual assault may be their best source of affirmation. If you are one in five women who are sexually assaulted in their lifetime, please don’t hesitate to call the crisis hotline at 1-(844)-237-2331. Many women aren’t prepared for the possibility that it could happen to them. It certainly wasn’t something Bonnie Levitt, 25 at the time, was expecting when she was raped by Shawnee High School graduate and former Kentucky basketball player, Tom Payne, who was convicted of five rapes and four attempted rapes. He attacked Levitt in the garage of her California home on Feb. 14, 1986. During the rape, Payne covered her head with a towel and hoisted her onto the roof of her car. However, Levitt told us in an interview that she wasn’t willing to go down without a fight. Refusing to let police show up on her mother’s doorstep on Valentine’s Day with news that her daughter had been killed, Levitt took the brooch from her jacket and began stabbing Payne in the head. Police walked in on the scene of the crime relieving Levitt of what had become a fight for her life, and she was taken to the hospital where she went through the rape kit process. “They looked at all of my bruises and scratches on my body and they took pictures of me from head-to-toe. They also swabbed my vagina, combed through my pubic hair and head hair. After that, they swabbed my mouth because he tried to kiss me,” Levitt said, “But I don’t ever remember feeling uncomfortable.” Although the rape itself was mentally and physically scar-

ring, she said it was the long and grueling road that came after that was the most painful. TAKING THE STAND

It took almost an entire year before Levitt got the chance to testify against Payne in court. Once there, Payne lied about what really happened. According to him, Levitt was a prostitute who agreed to have sex with him for 35 dollars. He claimed her accusations of rape were racially motivated, considering she was white and he was black.

“

The movement gives people the ability to see that they are fighting for themselves and they are fighting for other women.

- Jenny Kuerzi Crisis counselor

Levitt rehearsed her story with her lawyer over and over again. Yet as soon as she stood behind the podium, she felt as though every detail of this traumatizing experience would somehow be turned into the wrong answer. She described it as re-victimizing. But pointing at Payne and saying “yes, that is the man who raped me” restored the power in her that Tom Payne had taken away a year prior. Having the evidence that was collected through the rape kit process gave Levitt the proof to back her story, and together, it was enough to prove Payne guilty. He was sent to prison once again, having been released just three years before after serving ten years for separate rape charges. This isn’t always how the story ends, though. According to Turner, Kentucky has a 3% conviction rate for rape Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

cases. But the extent to which a woman feels like she’s achieved justice isn’t always determined by whether or not their perpetrator serves time. In several of Turner’s cases, the victim knew of various other people in their position who didn’t feel comfortable going forward alone.

“

We are condtioned... to believe the perpertrator more than we are to believe the person who has experienced the assault.

- Amy Turner

Director of Sexual Assualt Services

“Now, they feel like they can band together and go after this person. It creates community and camaraderie,” Turner said, “I think even if the person doesn’t see jail, they at least stood up to that person. Sometimes that’s just enough.” WHAT ARE MY RIGHTS?

Rape kits are not exclusively for adults. Minors 13 or younger must go to a children’s hospital, such as Kosair Hospital in Louisville, where nurses are available who specialize in younger kids. Those ages 14 and 15 can get tested at both the CWF and UofL Hospital if accompanied by a parent or guardian. According to Kuerzi, minors 16 and older, however, may get tested without notifying a parent as long as they have received permission from someone 18 or older whom they trust. Regardless of age, once a victim begins the rape kit process, they are not obligated to follow through with each aspect of it. A nurse will inform the victim about each step and they can decide which parts of it they would like to undergo. Victims, like Levitt, who get a rape kit tested, also have the 22 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

right to free contraceptives at the clinic. They will be provided with both Plan B and a free sexually transmitted disease scanning. “After all of this they gave me a handful of pills. I don’t know what they were but they were just for everything. They even gave me the ‘morning after pill,’” Levitt said. One of the pills she was given was a two-dose 12-hour contraceptive. After a strenuous 24 hours of playing back the rape in her head and for police officers, she went home and slept through the second dose. Consequently, Payne left a lasting mark on her body that would make moving forward even more difficult. Months later, Levitt miscarried having never even realized she was pregnant. IT’S HER CHOICE

There are many different factors that contribute to a victim’s decision not to report. According to Kuerzi, these include past negative experiences with law enforcement or hospitals and pushback from family and religious affiliations. She stated another contributor is the sexist platform in which society perceives victims. For example, some of the public deemed Christine Blasey Ford to be a liar because of her sexual assault allegations against Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, Brett Kavanaugh. The multiple death threats she received for coming forward highlights why some women don’t speak up in fear of retaliation, backlash, and harassment. But in the end, it comes down to the internal struggle that victims are faced with. The choice between moving past an experience like this and fighting to put an attacker behind bars is not an easy one. “I think people struggle with, ‘am I gonna do all this work, am I gonna talk about what happened to me over and over again for that person to not even go

to jail or to go to jail for like six months.’ To them it doesn’t feel worth it,” Kuerzi said. This was the mindset of one college student, now 22, when she was sexually assaulted by her brother-in-law at just 13 years old. For this story, we’ll call her Samantha to protect the identity of herself and her family. Because of the close relationship she shared with her perpetrator and the fact that they were both drunk when it happened, she couldn’t help but try to justify his actions. Just entering her teenage years, Samantha wasn’t aware that rape kits were an option, and decided it’d be easier to remain silent. For months, she couldn’t bring herself to tell her mother or her sister, the woman that went home with Samantha’s assaulter every night. “I didn’t really want him to go to jail,” said Samantha. “I loved him.” To this day, Samantha still has flashbacks of what happened to her. Although she never got the chance to put her perpetrator behind bars, she says she would tell a woman that was in a similar position to get a rape kit done the day after if they really want to prosecute. The actions you make immediately after have the ability to affect you and your healing process for a prolonged period of time. Samantha said she would tell victims to “think long and hard about this decision.” THE BACKLOG

In addition to the grueling internal conflict women are faced with, in some states, they are met with an external setback — the backlog. For years, our country has grappled with an accumulation of rape kits in the system that go untested. Although rape kits don’t always match women with a definite perpetrator’s DNA, due to the backlog, they are forced to wait months or even years for any

kind of result, making justice even more difficult to obtain. Kentucky was among the backlogged states, sitting on 3,090 untested rape kits in 2015. Now in 2019, that number is down to zero. In April 2016, Kentucky passed the SAFE Act in an effort to combat the backlog issue. It requires that hospitals notify law enforcement 24 hours after completing any rape kit. Then, police have five days to retrieve the kit and 30 days to submit it to the lab for testing. As of 2018, the lab must have kits tested within 90 days, but in 2020, they hope to reduce that number to 60. Additionally, Kentucky is working on becoming the first state to put rapid DNA testing into action. This means rape suspects could be identified within hours. Kentucky serves as an example of a state which has made a positive effort to decrease untested rape kit numbers significantly. States like North Carolina, California and Florida still have over 13,000 untested rape kits. As

a state, we’re overcoming this issue, but as a country, we still have work to do. BELIEVE THEM

Levitt says her decision to come forward with her rape was undoubtedly the right one. It gave her story an ending, and it gave her closure. Levitt, now a woman in her late 50’s, spends her spare time painting with her friends in her Hollywood home. Payne is on parole after spending over 30 years of his life in prison, and she says little hate for him remains in her heart. “At this point all I can say is ‘have a great life, I hope everything works out for you, and you’re 68 years old so don’t waste it,’” Levitt said. Her bravery behind the stand put Payne behind bars. This is only possible if we believe victims. Turner believes a culture where it’s the victim’s job is to prove they tried to prevent what happened is one that needs to change.

“We are conditioned as people to believe the perpetrator more than we are to believe the person who has experienced the assault,” Turner said. The reformed society she envisions is one where we don’t disparage victims, where we don’t refrain from coming forward in fear of “ruining a young boy’s life,” where we don’t try to validate sexual assault by saying “boys will be boys.” It’s about refusing to dismiss the abusive and irresponsible behavior of men and being insistent that we recognize how their actions affect people. Until we start consistently having these conversations, Turner believes her job will continue to exist. “If we just take the politics out of it and talk about people as human beings, then maybe we can get to a place where there are healthier conversations. Will that happen in my lifetime?” Turner said. “I’m kind of counting on you all.” •

OPEN CONTENTS • These are the contents of a rape kit. There are 12 steps, each requiring a different sample from the victim. These samples range from taking the underwear the victim was wearing to taking hair. Photo credit: LAINEY HOLLAND

Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

3 in 4

sexual assaults are unreported. 1

Three women who work to help sexual assault victims share why they do what they do.

words and design by EVELYN WALFORD • photo by LAINEY HOLLAND 2

30% 13% 8% 7%

24 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

20%

gave another reason, or did not cite one reason

13%

believed it was a personal matter

believed it was not important enough to report

did not want to get the perpetrator in trouble

feared retaliation

believed the police would not do anything to help reported to a different official

believed the police could not do anything to help

Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN), 2013-2017.

Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, Bureau of Justice Statistics, Female Victims of Sexual Violence, 2013.

“

It’s a real privilege to be able to sit with people when they’re telling you things that are horrific and will change their life forever moving forward. I get very inspired by the people.”

- Tisha Pletcher PROGRAM MANAGER

PEACC Center, a University of Louisville advocacy center Hotline number: (502) 852-2663, or (502) 714-8923 after 5:00 p.m.

“

When I see clients succeed at things, like graduating high school, or even being able to get married — we’ve had that happen — or being able to speak up for themselves... Watching a survivor tell their story to the community is really powerful... There’s so many things that come to mind when I think of successes here.”

- Della Buege VOLUNTEER Center for Women and Families, a rape crisis and domestic violence center

“

In today’s society, there’s still a lot of social norms around keeping quiet about abuse and violence that are very common... We wouldn’t have places like this or a similar organization if there wasn’t a need... I want to be a part of normalizing the effects of violence, facilitating violence prevention, and exploring where it starts to help people overcome it.”

- Amy Turner

DIRECTOR OF SEXUAL ASSAULT SERVICES

Center for Women and Families

Hotline number: (844) 237-2331 Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

PICTURE PERFECT • Jena Quesada, 38, proudly shows an old family photo on her cellphone. Photo credit: YSA LEON

1 in 12,000

OF THE CHILDREN BORN FROM RAPE EACH YEAR Jena Quesada’s family is rooted in an unconventional story, but she’s made that story her own.

words by YSA LEON • design by MADDIE CURRIE

t is estimated that 360,000 people are born worldwide on any given day. So, on Dec. 23, 1980, Jena Quesada shared her birthday with hundreds of thousands of babies around the world. But, out of those third of a million, Quesada likely only shared her story with three percent of them. Quesada’s birth was never going to be a normal one. Her mother was a teenager when a person she knew raped her, and she became pregnant.

“It’s always darkest before the dawn” Quesada, when describing herself, uses the term “product of rape”— an expression that describes less than one of every 12,000 births 26 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

annually in the U.S. Her mother, who preferred not to be interviewed, chose to go through with her unplanned pregnancy while incapacitated by an already haunting circumstance. “My mom has a strong sense of what is just. To her, I deserved a fair shot, and she couldn’t give it to me,” Quesada said. Quesada grew up with her adoptive parents, Dawn and Ted Sandquist, in upstate New York. Dawn had been running an unofficial adoption service with local attorneys and other women in their church when she came upon an upcoming birth that created interesting circumstances. Another family had expressed interest in adopting a baby, but the couple

was sure they wanted a boy. Casually, Dawn agreed to take the child if it happened to be a girl.

A Christmas gift On a chilly December night in New York, Quesada’s mother gave birth. “I found out she was a girl on the day she was born,” Dawn said. “I forgot about saying we’d take her if she was a girl, and voilà!” David Larkin, Quesada’s biological uncle, delivered her to Dawn and Ted Sandquist, her adoptive parents, on Christmas Day. He drove four hours to Ithaca, New York where Quesada was born, while his wife put on an unfamiliar song for the drive down. Larkin asked her who the artist was, and it just happened to be Quesada’s

soon-to-be adoptive father, Ted. Larkin was the only person that knew the names of the people that were going to take in Quesada. When his wife told him the name of the Christian musician, he was taken aback by the coincidence to the point of nearly driving off the road. “To hear my husband’s music and know that this was a good family, it was God telling him this was the right thing,” Dawn said. Larkin brought the unnamed baby out to Dawn and Ted, who were waiting outside in the snow away from Quesada’s mother and her family. Despite the feelings of shock from adding their first girl after three boys, the beauty of the baby was overwhelming. Quesada’s eyes were glued to her on the drive home. Quesada was quite literally a gift to the Sandquist family. “We brought her home, put a bow on her head and put her under the tree,” Dawn said. Quesada’s three brothers, Jason, Jon-Mark, and Jordan, weren’t entirely aware of the situation, but they understood they were getting a new baby sister for Christmas. “We were old enough to know that my mom wasn’t pregnant,” Jon-Mark said. “There was never any hiding that Jena was adopted.” Although she was adopted, she became a Sandquist seamlessly. “People that didn’t know assumed she was a part of our family because she looked like us growing up,” Jordan said. Her parents always made sure she was loved like she was born the same way her brothers were. “I don’t think there was anyone that treated her any differently at all,” Jon-Mark said. But Quesada was different. The story of her conception was tragic, but the happiness she would bring to so many lives proved to be the light at the end of a dark tunnel.

Hope for help For many women, this tunnel is lonely and never-ending. Figuring out how to raise a child can seem like an insurmountable task after already going through the trauma of rape. But there are ways to lift some of the weight. There are several services available in Louisville, like the Center for Women and Families, and throughout the state, like Kentucky Association of Sexual Assault Programs (KASAP), for rape victims and, if applicable, their children (see “1 in 5”). Additionally, for women like Quesada and her mom, KY Senate Bill 108 of the 2014 Kentucky legislative session can provide protection from the assailants. Signed into law that April, this legislation prohibits the father of a product of rape from obtaining custody of the child. Sara Beth Gregory, one of the bill’s sponsors, explained that, unfortunately, this law is applied more often than people realize. The sponsors of the law looked to similar legislation in other states and formed a draft that would prevent revictimization of the mother and the child. It also recognizes that every situation is different. A clause located near the end of the law cedes the potential of custody to the father only if the mother allows it. While Gregory believes that it has given many women peace with their children, she regrets the need for it at all. However, there are still states that do not offer this kind of legal protection for rape victims and their children. New Mexico, Wyoming, North Dakota, Minnesota, Mississippi, and Alabama are, as of 2019, the six remaining states that allow rapists to obtain custody. Maryland was part of this group until it passed the Rape Survivor Family Protection Act in February of 2018. This bill, which unanimously passed through Mar-

yland’s General Assembly, gives mothers the right to “terminate the parental rights of an individual convicted of or found by clear and convincing evidence of guilt” according to CNN. Similar to Kentucky’s law, victims in Maryland now have the power to prevent or end revictimization of themselves and their children.

“

“I’ve heard people say, ‘Ew, who would want a rape baby? When people say that, they don’t put a face to the name.” - Jena Quesada

” Not her choice “I’ve heard people say, ‘Ew, who would want a rape baby?’” Quesada said. “When people say that, they don’t put a face to the name.” When it comes to protecting children born of rape, this revictimization is a major problem. Being a product of rape is an identifier. Quesada can’t ignore it; there’s always someone to remind her that, to some, she is less than a life. As tears welled in her eyes, she described her struggles with societal judgment of “rape babies,” who are often dismissed as an unnecessary hardship. Quesada continues to wrestle with why her life is labeled as less valuable than others. The unfortunate situation that led to Quesada’s birth was not her choice, just like any other pregnancy, but she feels her life as a child borne of rape is devalued. No matter how you may see her, Quesada is truly one in a million — or, in fact, one of about 12,000 products of rape each year, according to a 1996 Medical Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

LEARNING THE TRUTH • Jena Quesada recounts how she felt when she found out the circumstances of her conception. “I think the first time after I found out the truth, somebody made a comment about how she would never want a ‘rape baby’... and it was the first time that it was ever really personal to me,” Quesada said. Photo credit: MIA BREITENSTEIN

University of South Carolina study. This is out of only 32,000 pregnancies from rape (0.5 percent of rapes result in pregnancy) of the nearly 4 million annual live births in the U.S. The likelihood of being raped and becoming pregnant is already rare, but keeping the baby is even less common. To Quesada, those lives are just as important as any other.

Learning her story Quesada was always passionate about the polarizing issue that shaped her life, but she learned more about her situation when Dawn pushed her to reach out to her birth mother. She met her birth mother when she was 27, and found out that her story’s beginning was a little different than most. “She asked me if I wanted to know and I told her I did,” Quesada said. “She said that he was a ‘bad boy,’ and she was young and naive. She defined it as date rape, but they weren’t really dating.” It was difficult for Quesada to find out that her father raped her mother and that she was conceived in such an unimaginable situation. 28 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

She said she thought to herself, “I am so close to [my mother’s] family, but do I want to meet him too? Was I like him at all?” And in fact, she is. She met her biological father for the first time in January of 2017 at a truck stop in Louisville. “I certainly look more like him than [my mother],” Quesada said, “I struggled for a while.” Despite all the thoughts she had about her father, she decided it was best for her own mental health to forgive. “I love him for who he is,” Quesada said, “and I know we won’t ever be close, but everyone deserves a second chance. I pray for him.” As ironic as it seems, Quesada felt grateful to be able to blend in with her dad’s side. She values each part of her history, even if her maternal family often disregards her father.

Called to action Because of her personal experiences, Quesada has dedicated her life to working with women considering abortion. She works

with organizations like And Then There Were None and 40 Days For Life that offer counseling and services for women considering abortion as well as abortion workers. She also attends the March for Life, an annual event in Washington D.C. where people can demonstrate support for an end to abortion. “I feel like it’s my job, it’s my calling, to be a face for people who don’t get stood up for,” she said. Quesada always felt strongly about the polarizing issue of abortion, but when she learned her story, it strengthened her mindset. “I think when you are the exact circumstance that people describe to use to validate dehumanizing people, then it’s your job to speak up for people who are dehumanized,” Quesada said. Quesada disagrees with abortion as an option, but many disagree. Rape victims who become pregnant face a unique predicament when deciding whether or not to have and keep the child, find a family to adopt the child, or have an abortion.

Herzog, a professor of psychology at Western Carolina University, directly countered Akin’s accusations, writing that his “first mistake was linguistic. The term ‘legitimate rape’ is an oxymoron. ‘Legitimate rape’ does not exist. End of story.” Herzog also claims that Akin was misled to believe that a woman can just shut down her body by anti-abortion doctors and physicians, namely Jack C. Wilke, a past president of the National Right to Life Committee. Minors are especially susceptible to pregnancy from rape. In a 1995 Guttmacher Institute study, researchers concluded that the fathers of children are more likely to be older than the mother when the mother is a teenager. In 1988, over 80 percent of girls ages 15-17 became pregnant with the baby of an older man, ages ranging from 18 to over 40. While the majority of these fathers are in the age range of 18 to 24, girls under 16 in Kentucky cannot legally consent to having sex with an adult. The options for teen girls, unlike legal adults, are limited. In Kentucky, unmarried minors cannot get an abortion without proof of emancipation or parental consent unless an emergency occurs. Adoption is always a option, but girls may find the entire situation too overwhelming to navigate. After women make their decision, resources for post-abortive and post-partum rape victims are scarce. There are many general support groups and counseling options for women who are raped, but, because it is so rare, no specific group seems to exist solely for pregnant rape victims or their children. This would be crucial in helping women like Quesada’s mother go through this uniquely traumatizing course of events.

Jena’s new company

Norton Women’s and Children’s Hospital, filled with family and friends who filled the beige walls to welcome Quesada’s first baby. “My doctor laughed about all of the people in the room,” Quesada said, “It was like a party.” After 28 hours of labor, a cesarean section, and much anticipation, Quesada introduced everyone to baby Leo, born on Jan. 15, 2008. While her story wasn’t quite like her mother’s, each brought a child into a loving family. But baby Leo marked a new branch on Quesada’s family tree. Simply put, Quesada’s birth in the cold December symbolized the hardships she would face in her life to bring Leo into the world. But it was also the bloom of a new beginning, the start to her life as a mother and a survivor. •

Photo credit: YSA LEON

The thought of having a child from this scarring experience can be frightening for various reasons. The victim may feel like going through with the pregnancy will create an invisible tie to their rapist. Furthermore, the victim may not have the resources to have a child at this point in their life. They may fear that they won’t connect with the baby knowing that a part of their baby is the result of a horrifying event of their life. These circumstances can compound the trauma of rape for victims. This can lead to, in extreme cases, Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD) — the psychological effects of overlapping traumatic experiences. Myths surrounding human conception have also skewed the public’s understanding of the possibility of pregnancy resulting from rape. U.S Rep. Todd Akin from Missouri made national headlines in 2012 after discussing what he calls “legitimate rape” — the false idea that “real” rape victims cannot become pregnant because a woman’s body can miraculously prevent pregnancy if she was raped. More recently, in 2016, Idaho House Representative Pete Nielsen repeated the same myth that “due to the trauma of the incident” a woman cannot become pregnant. Contrary to this, studies show women are actually more likely to get pregnant following rape. A 1995-1996 joint study from the National Institute of Justice, the National Center for Injury Prevention and Control, and the Centers for Disease Control found that women who are raped have an increased birth rate (8%) as compared to the chance of getting pregnant during the average menstrual cycle (only about 3%). Other experts are also coming forward to clear the confusion. Hal

“She is incredibly smart — probably one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life,” said Jena Quesada’s son Leo, an 11-year-old at Louisville Classical Academy. “She seems to be strong, as in, like, a protesting way, or like she stands for her beliefs.”

You could hear the laughter from Quesada’s room a mile away in Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

How the legalization of recreational marijuana

TAX BENEFITS Recreational marijuana sales since 2012: $1 billion

$1.56 billion COLORADO

$2.75 billion

WASHINGTON

CALIFORNIA

$ $ $

U.S. Bureau of Economic Analysis, 2018

: states that have legalized recreational marijuana

LOCAL LEGISLATION Legislators proposed House Bill 136, which is in favor of the legalization of medical marijuana, in the most recent legislative session. HB 136 stalled in committee. 33 out of 50 states have legalized medical marijuana, according to the National Conference of State Legislators.

THE DECLINE OF THE TOBACCO INDUSTRY FAIR AND EQUITABLE TOBACCO REFORM ACT OF 2004 Amends and repeals some agricultural acts to eliminate tobacco quotas and price-support programs throughout the nation.

OVER 90% According to the 2002 Agricultural Census, there were 46 farmers growing tobacco in Jefferson County. By 2012, that number had fallen to three, a drop by over 90%. 30 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

could affect Kentucky’s economy words and design by JESS MAYS

DRUG SCHEDULES

According to the Drug Enforcement Agency, drugs are classified into five distinct schedules based on their accepted medical uses and the potential for abuse and dependency.

HEMP IN KY Kentucky is the national leader in hemp production The Farm Act of 2018 Removed hemp from the list of controlled substances

SCHEDULE 1 DRUGS

Legalized hemp production with approved plan by US Department of Agriculture

Heroin Marijuana

“Hemp Report: Top 10 US States,” report by Hemp Industry Daily

LSD

$ PER ACRE (IN THOUSANDS)

HEMP VS. TOBACCO

Ecstasy

PROFIT PER ACRE

SCHEDULE 2 DRUGS Fentanyl

6 4

Oxycontin

2 1

HEMP

Adderall

# OF ACRES

TOBACCO

Ritalin

Brian Furnish, head of Ananda Hemp, (2019 Los Angeles Times interview)

KEEPING MARIJUANA ILLEGAL ON AVERAGE, UNITED STATES SPENDS A COMBINED $3.6 MILLION ENFORCING ANTI-MARIJUANA LAW. From 2001-2010, law enforcement made over 8 million marijuana arrests.

In 2010, 52% of all drug arrests were for marijuana.

2010 CATO Institute report on the “Budgetary Impact of Ending Drug Prohibition” Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

LOST IN TRANSLATION The move to the States can be challenging, but finding out how to fit into American culture can be even more difficult. words by SYLVIA CASSIDY & ANABEL MAGERS • design by MAGGIE GEDIMAN

IMMIGRANT PARENTS come to Kentucky carrying the weight of their luggage along with the traditions and beliefs of their home country. They’re faced with the challenge of maintaining their culture despite added pressure to adapt to and learn about American norms, and their children must also find middle ground between their parents’ culture and American society. For the kids, every day carries new decisions: blue jeans or traditional clothes? A dish

32 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

from their home country or a cheeseburger from the drivethru? Though these choices may seem small, they can represent the changes in identity that come as soon as they cross the border. “Assimilation is working your way into that cultural frame of reference in such a way that you know the cultural cues, the nuances of a culture,” Frank Hutchins, an associate professor in anthropology at Bellarmine University, said in an interview with On the Record.

Hutchins described a struggle between “Americanizing” and holding onto heritage: children usually try to act the same way that their peers do, while parents tend to stick with what they know, creating a disconnect between parent and child. On paper, this rift may seem just like political jargon and complicated terms, but for the families that experience it first hand, it can be a huge burden and cause perpetual confusion about one’s identity.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER Fatima (left) stands back-to-back with her mother Jainaba (right) in their backyard. Photo credit:

SYLVIA CASSIDY

Fatima Sitting at her kitchen table, Fatima Gaye, a 16-year-old sophomore at Atherton High School, discussed her plans for the night with her mother, Jainaba. Fatima wanted to spend the night with her friends, but her mother had some objections. “That doesn’t make any sense to me,” Jainaba said. For Jainaba and her Gambian background, sleepovers were anything but usual. When Jainaba was growing up in her home West African country, The Gambia, she was never allowed to spend the night away from home. But this debate had come up in the Gaye household more than once. Nonetheless, Jainaba gave Fatima permission to spend the night under another roof. Jainaba doesn’t want Fatima to be “the kid with strict parents,” but for parents raising a child in a culture they are unfamiliar with, figuring out what to hold on to and what to forbid is tricky, especially while trying to uphold the values of their traditions.

“It’s a little hard when you have a child here, and you have that background in Africa — the way you were raised,” Jainaba said. “And then you are in America and you want to bring them up in this culture.” Jainaba has taken Fatima to The Gambia a few times, with the most recent trip in 2015. There, Fatima was faced with different customs — she said that she was rarely on her phone and less focused on what people thought of her. People in the streets were constantly making casual conversation, rather than walking past with their eyes on the ground. “When you’re over there, you don’t even care about all that stuff,” Fatima said. “It was eye-opening.” Fatima was caught off guard by how close-knit her mother’s hometown was. “Everyone knows each other,” Jainaba said. Fatima enjoys the social environment in The Gambia and tries to incorporate the same type of community support into her daily life when she comes back home. She tries to talk to everyone

she meets and get to know them a little, like the people in The Gambia do. Although the difference in hometowns causes some

“It’s a little hard when you have a child here, and you have that background in Africa.”

- Jainaba Gaye, mother to Fatima, 16

arguments about what is “normal” in the Gaye household, the two have connected over the root they share in The Gambia. Since the discussion that they shared, Fatima has been able to spend the night elsewhere with her friends.

Kassie Kassie Padron, a 15-year-old sophomore at Fern Creek High School, celebrated her quinceañera in July. A quinceañera is a traditional Latina celebration that marks a girl’s passage into Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

FAMILY TIES Kassie Padron and her mom, Rosa Rivera, share a laugh outside of their kitchen. Photo credit: SYLVIA CASSIDY

womanhood — and Padron wanted hers to be perfect. But the day of, the makeup artist canceled last minute, the limo company changed the reservation, and the thick air and dense humidity formed one of the biggest thunderstorms of the summer. Despite the series of setbacks, no-shows, and changes of plans, Padron still described this kindred day as “spectacular.”

“I’ve seen the effects of bigotry in this country and I try not to add to that negativity in the world.” -Kassie Padron, 15 “It connected me back to some of my roots,” Padron said — although she still doesn’t feel a full connection. Her parents are from Mexico, making her a second-generation American. Padron explained the difficulty of connecting 34 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

with her Mexican heritage and simultaneously feeling part of American culture. “It’s kinda feeling like you have one foot in one place and another in the other,” Padron said. “It’s weird because you feel like you’re too American to be with your family and you’re too Mexican to be around other people because you have this different view and culture.” This gap is illustrated in nearly every aspect of Padron’s life, down to the way she communicates in her home. Her mother, Rosa Rivera, almost exclusively speaks Spanish, which she taught to Padron and her sister. Because of this, she developed an accent when speaking in English that made her heritage easily identifiable among her peers — even though she just wanted to fit in. In response, Padron made an effort to hide her accent. She watched American movies and television shows, mainly Disney and Barney, in order to pick up

the slang. As time progressed, her accent became undetectable. “I seem pretty American,” Padron said. “It’s not like most people assume that I’m Mexican.” In addition to suppressing her accent, Padron wouldn’t talk about her Catholic faith or eat spicy foods because she thought embracing those traditions would make her even more of an outcast, especially around non-Hispanic white people. “I know it’s weird because even some white people like spicy foods,” Padron said. “But it was just a subconscious thing.” Padron felt her culture was slipping away from her as she tried to fully submerge herself in American culture. But as her quinceañera quickly approached, she made a deliberate effort to connect back to her roots — starting with her parents. Her relationship with her parents was already strong, but she worked to strengthen it further by familiarizing herself with their values, beliefs, and religion.

“My parents taught me to be respectful and cordial with other people,” Rivera said through translation. “They also taught me to actually listen to what people have to say.” Padron works hard to apply these principles in her everyday life. “I’ve seen the effects of bigotry in this country and I try not to add to that negativity in the world,” Padron said. “I just try my best to be nicer to people and not hold those same stereotypes to other people that have been held against us and other people.” So, when the day of her quinceañera finally arrived, it felt like a triumph for Padron to intimately relate to her heritage. “Bringing that tradition back into my life was really important to me because it did connect me back to my grandmother,” Padron said. •

Two families, four worlds Henstridge Henry, 15 Haitian descent Sophomore, duPont Manual High School “My parents and I disagree on a plethora of things, like how to raise a family or what ‘family’ even means. These disagreements often leave me confused and caught in the middle, so I talk to them less and less to avoid this and even more conflict. Less communication obviously causes a rift.”

Yahaira Castillo, 15 Mexican descent Sophomore, duPont Manual High School “As we grow up and go to English speaking schools, we kind of tear apart from the culture our parents have brought us up with. My first language is Spanish but I’ve lost a bit of it growing up. My sisters, on the other hand, have lost it almost completely, and with my parents not being fluent English speakers, it creates a gap.”

WATCHING OVER (left) Catholic figurines line the mantle in the Padron family household.

Photo credit: MATTIE TOWNSON

SCHOOL PICTURE (right) A framed photo of Kassie taken in elementary school is adorned by symbols of religion and family. Photo credit: MATTIE TOWNSON

Spring/Summer 2019

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36 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

kentucky’s

L GBT Q LGBTQ

entucky is so gay. Like… really gay. Our state holds a rich

history of LGBTQ people that we don’t talk about very often. It’s been covered up, erased, or just plain ignored. This history goes from the 1800s to the present and is filled

history

with snippets that showcase the people and events that make the

words by CLAIRE ROONEY

LGBTQ community in Kentucky what it is now. These stories and

design by PATRICK HARPER

the people in them have been largely overlooked, which some historians are trying to reverse. Jonathan Coleman is the president and co-founder of the Faulkner-Morgan Archive, which is a collection of Kentucky LGBTQ memorabilia. He has spent his life as a Lexington LGBTQ historian explaining to the community that gay people have been and always will be in Kentucky — whether it’s accepted or not. He published a narrative called the Kentucky LGBTQ Historic Context Narrative that was funded by the National Park Service, documenting all the times LGBTQ people appeared in Kentucky’s history. Most of the information in this timeline comes from the document. “When I was coming out, it was history I turned to,” Coleman said. “These are not just the stories of random folks trodding through Kentucky. In some ways, I feel like it’s the story of my old family.” It’s important for LGBTQ people to know who was supporting them before they were even born. For the rest of Kentucky, it’s important to know that LGBTQ people have always been here — they didn’t just show up out of the blue or decide to be who they are.

KENTUCKY MAY BE

GAYER THAN WE THINK 1798

38 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

James Herndon, born in 1892, was a famous black crossdresser in Lexington. His legacy sounds like something from a novel, yet it was weirdly accepted by most of the Lexington community in Jim Crow era Kentucky. Most of his story comes from a book called “Hidden Histories, Proud Communities,” written by Jeffrey Jones that interviewed people close to him. His life began as an orphan abandoned in a hospital and raised by nurses, cheering up patients with his ukulele as a teen. In the 40s, he bought a house near the University of Kentucky. This was probably intentional, with many football players saying that “Sweet Evening Breeze” — Herndon’s name for himself — allegedly participated in their “womanless weddings,” which were mostly charity events where a group of men had a mock wedding. These are where some of the most famous pictures of Sweets came from, which we link to online. Sweets’ overcoming of others’ racism and homophobia not made the LGBTQ community more well known, but it continues to inspire people today. “I’m able to do what I do today because of these folks. Because Jeffrey Wasson, because Sweet Evening Breeze,” Coleman said.

1940s

JONES & KNIGHT

First off, we have to look at Robert Craddock and Peter Tardiveau, the first gay couple tha we know of in Kentucky, according to a 1922 biography of Craddock. They were never married — it was illegal — but they stayed together until the day they died. In 1798, Craddock moved to a farm in Warren County and Tardiveau followed him there not long after. Though they had slaves, Tardiveau taught them how to read and freed them after Craddock’s death. The two are buried in Bowling Green with a monument commemorating their contribution of much of their fortune to public education.

SWEET EVENING BREEZE

CRADDCK & TARDIVEAU

1798 Kentucky was the site of the first lesbian marriage trial in 1970, according to a Courier Journal article from the same year. Using the pseudonyms of Marjorie Jones and Tracy Knight, two women filed for a marriage license in Jefferson County. When they were denied, the couple filed a suit to challenge the rule. The couple later revealed that this was mostly a move to spark gay liberation in Kentucky and the rest of the nation, riding off the wave of national attention from the Stonewall riots. They claimed to be in love but didn’t want to get married. Jones’ lawyer wanted them to marry to try and challenge the law saying they couldn’t.

1970

FLASHING COLORS Michael Snyder (18, left) and DK Robinson (17, right), members of the Gay Straight Alliance (GSA) at St. Francis High School, interact with a color exhibit while visiting the Speed Art Museum. “I’m so proud to be gay,” said Snyder. Photo credit: MARSHALL GAULT

1986

After a long hard battle that lasted almost a decade, Louisville became the first city in the south to pass a Fairness Ordinance, which protected LGBTQ people from discrimination in employment and later extended to housing protection. According to Lisa Gunterman, one of the original co-founders of the ordinance, protesters flocked to the streets to get it passed, some were even arrested. They were angry that multiple LGBTQ people were fired from their jobs for being gay, or kicked out of their homes for their gender identity. The Louisville Board of Aldermen passed the law in January 1999 with a 7-5 decision. County Commissioner Joe Corradino cast the last deciding vote to pass it in the fall. Gunterman revealed to the crowd outside that they had won. “Oh my gosh, that was one of the happiest days of my life,” Gunterman said, “We had just worked so long and so hard, and the opposition was just vicious.” Gunterman credits the success of the ordinance and protests to being mentored by local leaders in the civil rights movement. “Without their wisdom, advice, and encouragement, I don’t think we would’ve been as successful,” Gunterman said.

1990s

“LOVE V. KENTUCKY”

In 1986, undercover police officers arrested Jeffrey Wasson and 28 other men for “solicitation of sodomy” in a sting operation outside a well-known LGBTQ space in Lexington, The Bar Complex. This was a safe space for LGBTQ people at the time, and probably some of the only places where they would be accepted. The officers were there to entrap gay men who wanted to have sex with them, which was illegal at the time. While the other 28 men accepted the charges, Wasson hired a group of lawyers to challenge the law. It was the first case in the nation to challenge laws against sodomy. He eventually won his case in 1992. Much of this is documented by the Kentucky LGBTQ Heritage Initiative.

FAIRNESS ORDINANCE

WASSON’S VICTORY

2015 To end our timeline, let’s talk about the famous Love v. Beshear court case. The plaintiffs were 6 couples from Kentucky, including the aptly named Tim Love and his partner Larry Ysunza. They were arguing that Kentucky was violating the 14th Amendment, which provides equal protection under the law, by banning same-sex marriage in the state. They eventually went to the Supreme Court with couples from Ohio, Michigan, and Tennessee, and won their case on June 26, 2015. Dan Canon was the lead counsel for the Kentucky case, and says he was “elated, of course, but without much time to celebrate.” After the press conference, Canon and the other Kentucky lawyers got to attend the first gay marriage in Kentucky, Love and Ysunza, at the county clerk’s office.

2015 Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

A look into Kentucky’s film scene

ACTION On March 22, equipment and props lay all over the set of “Whisper,” a horror movie filmed in Warsaw, Ky. by WKU junior Anna Raker. Photo credit: MIA BREITENSTEIN

Despite being over 2,000 miles away from Hollywood, young filmmakers in Kentucky can find careers close to home. words by EVAN SHOWALTER • design by MAGGIE GEDIMAN

anielle Bartley, a 28-year-old director of photography, entered her first day on set, anxiously looking for people she recognized. Her eyes darted around as the buzzing crew members searched for people and set up equipment. Bartley, a Western Kentucky University (WKU) graduate, was far from Hollywood — she was in the South End of Louisville, setting up lights for “In the Radiant City,” a production by a small film studio called Candlewood Entertainment, when a woman walked over to talk to her. The woman was Rachel Lambert, the film’s director, and after a few minutes of talking, both realized they grew up right down the street from each other.

40 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

“Kentucky girls are strong, huh?” Lambert said. “Yeah, we’re freaking tough,” Bartley said, a confident grin spreading across her face. Bartley recalled how there was little fighting or arguing on set. Instead of wasting time bickering, she said the crew was able to focus and dive deep into the project. Through their passion for filmmaking, the ensemble of strangers became like a family. This group has remained close ever since, hanging out every time Bartley comes into town. When the movie was finally finished, the crew submitted it to multiple film festivals, including Toronto International Film Festival. From script to screen, this entire project started in Kentucky, along with many others.

But why Kentucky? Why now? Well, Kentucky has some very generous tax incentives for filmmakers — this means they can get a return on certain expenses when coming to Kentucky to shoot movies, like labor, sets, equipment, location, and much more. These benefits attract all types of productions, but the expense does attract criticism. Gov. Matt Bevin, worried about Kentucky’s ability to pay all the companies, suspended new applications and set a deadline for February 1. In response, companies desperately submitted applications for the tax incentives before the deadline. Kentucky approved over $428 million for an unusually large amount of projects. In April, the legislature continued the film tax incentives

program with a $100 million dollar cap to avoid this type of over budgeting again. Still, in the future, filmmakers can still save money by making a movie in Kentucky. As the Lexington Herald-Leader reported, from 2009-2017, over 150 projects had been approved to be subsidized by the tax incentives. “I’ve worked on movies that have come into town just for this,” Bartley stated, “It’s a great deal. Any movie that I’ve been on in Kentucky has taken advantage of the tax incentives.” While the tax incentives can help those in the industry save money, Kentucky’s close connections can lead to countless opportunities for younger professionals entering into the industry after college. Kentucky isn’t nearly as large and as busy as Hollywood, making it much easier to form relationships that can advance a filmmaker’s career. These connections can be widely useful, from getting jobs to finding crews. “I know everybody that works in the industry here in Kentucky; it’s a small-knit family,” Bartley said. She first encountered filmmaking in her photography class at duPont Manual High School, but didn’t know the extent

of her passion until shortly after graduating from WKU. “It was my first time ever being on a film set. Just being in the environment made me realize this is what I want to do,” she recalled. The attitudes and passion on the set of a film can determine how well a piece turns out. In the same way, the location of a film

“

Although Kentucky has been the setting for many of the films Bartley has worked on, her next projects probably won’t be filmed in the Bluegrass State. She has decided to take her talents to Los Angeles, the film capital of the world. Though Bartley made her start in a state primarily known for basketball, bourbon, and horse racing, Kentucky has given her experiences that can open doors elsewhere. Anna Raker, a current junior in the WKU film program, is another filmmaker trying to make her mark on our old Kentucky home. Raker has had a passion for filmmaking ever since high school when she attended The Underground Academy of Cinematic Arts camp in Ohio, where she learned how to make a film from start to finish. After that, her mind was set on being in the film industry. She has written, directed, and produced multiple films for herself and friends. Since being enrolled in film classes, Raker has noticed a significant increase in the quality of her films, which are largely horror films — her favorite genre. “I did a teen film challenge three years ago and a lot of it was blurry. I was just facepalming the entire time,” Raker said. “Seeing from high school to where it’s brought me to my sophomore year

Just being in the environment made me realize this is what I want to do.” –Danielle Bartley, 28

can affect the entire mood of a project. The natural landscapes of our rural areas and the busy cities of Louisville and Lexington give filmmakers a wide range of settings. Films from all genres have been made in Kentucky; everything from “Stripes,” a wacky army movie starring Bill Murray, to “Secretariat,” the 2010 movie about the legendary horse that won the Triple Crown.

LIGHTS

(left) Hannah Fitzpatrick, a 19-yearold crew member, uses a lighting technique to mimic the appearance of night time on the set of “Whispers.” Photo credit: MIA BREITENSTEIN

CAMERA

(right) Two crew members check on their camera settings after filming a scene for “Whispers.” Photo credit: MIA BREITENSTEIN Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

of college, it’s great. It’s amazing how much has changed and how much more I know.” Raker and Bartley alike have shown the passion for film that can be found in Kentucky. But with its reputation for bluegrass, college basketball, and thoroughbreds, Kentucky’s diverse locations and tax incentives are crucial in bringing the film industry home. For Raker and Bartley, these incentives are necessary in remedying the notion that Kentucky doesn’t impact the film industry — and jump-starting their careers. “When I tell people I’m a filmmaker they are like ‘oh that’s really unique,’” Raker said. “No one expects to find a filmmaker in Kentucky. They think it’s all outsourced to LA or New York or AND SCENE. A group of WKU students prepare to shoot the first scene of their film, places like that.” • “Whispers,” on March 22. Photo by MIA BREITENSTEIN.

42 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

stained sentence by a

sentence

Photo illustration by LAINEY HOLLAND

In a system of incarceration built for men, imprisoned women face health challenges. words by MADDIE CURRIE & LILLIAN METZMEIER design by MIA BREITENSTEIN & LAINEY HOLLAND

s “

heri Ray, a former corrections officer, walked in for her shift at Clark County Jail and noticed a young woman curled up on a mattress on the floor. Ray remembers the torn blanket that barely covered her body, allowing everyone to see the bloody mess that was her jumpsuit. The woman told her that the previous guard said it “wasn’t his problem” and that she needed to find somebody to give her a jumpsuit. So, she sat there for 12 hours in a stained jumpsuit before Ray arrived. “I’m a woman and a mother. It was beyond my humanity to not correct the situation,” Ray said. “First thing I did was I went and immediately got a hygiene pack, towel; I told her ‘here’s a brand new hygiene pack, take a shower.’” This isn’t the first time a correctional facility has ignored the issue of inadequate access to feminine hygiene products for inmates, and Ray believes that at Clark County, the officers did not do enough to fix it.

Our prisons and our jails in the state of Kentucky didn’t want to realize that we’re incarcerating two different people. One is a man and one is a woman, and we have different needs. - Rep. Julie Raque Adams

It’s hearing of situations like these that inspired Nadia Flynn, a 17-year-old junior at Southwestern High School in Somerset, Ky, to find a solution for incarcerated women. 44 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

Flynn spent her past summer at the Governor’s School of Entrepreneurship starting “Feminine Focus,” a non-profit organization that provides feminine hygiene products such as menstrual cups, cotton underwear, and feminine wipes for incarcerated women in Kentucky. “The population of female incarcerated individuals is increasing drastically,” Flynn said. Flynn believes as more women are entering the system, their basic, hygienic needs are being underserved.

What’s the issue? In 2016, Kentucky’s female incarceration rate was more than two times the national average. Yet, we still use a criminal justice system that was created for men — one that doesn’t always accommodate for periods, pregnancy, and women’s health in general. “Our prisons and our jails in the state of Kentucky didn’t want to realize that we’re incarcerating two different people. One is a man and one is a woman, and we have different needs,” said Julie Raque Adams, the Kentucky senator for District 36. Incarcerated women include those in both jail and prison. To most people, the difference between the two is unclear. The biggest contrast is the length of the sentence. Jails are usually local, and the inmates are usually awaiting trial or serving short sentences. On the other hand, prisons are usually run by the state or federal government for inmates serving longer sentences for more serious crimes. Differences aside, there’s an issue that both prisons and jails often overlook: feminine hygiene,

or the care and general upkeep of female anatomy. Feminine hygiene products are essential to staying healthy and clean. This includes items that women use each month like tampons, pads, panty liners, and other sanitary products designed for the care of the vulva and vagina. “The feminine hygiene products part is such a small part of it,” said Dr. Amy Deeley, an obstetrics and gynecology specialist at All Women OBGYN, a women’s health clinic in Louisville. Deeley’s definition of feminine hygiene also includes testing for pregnancy, getting a pap smear, having a mammogram, screening for sexually transmitted infections (STIs), and having rights to an abortion. On top of access to sanitary products, regular trips to a gynecologist, a doctor who specializes in the female reproductive system and breasts, are another part of keeping the female body healthy. To stay clean during the menstrual cycle, doctors recommend changing a tampon every four to eight hours to avoid Toxic Shock Syndrome, a potentially fatal disease caused by bacterial infections that can develop when a tampon is not changed frequently enough. A pad, depending on a woman’s flow, needs to be changed about every few hours. If you do the math, the average woman uses four to five tampons or four pads a day for about a week each month. That’s about 20 tampons or 25 pads a month — or more, depending on each woman’s flow — to stay clean during their menstrual cycle. Since feminine hygiene isn’t often prioritized in correctional facilities, some women are forced to make their own tampons — not only an unsanitary process but an unsafe one.

“The facility made it that if you got caught using a selfmade tampon, you would be put on suicide watch,” Ray said. “It would be considered a form of attempted mutilation, which can be registered under suicide.” Ray’s outlook on feminine hygiene in correctional facilities is a unique one as she has seen what it’s like to be an officer and an inmate. Ray spent two months as an undercover inmate at Clark County Jail on the A&E show, “60 Days In.” The show follows law-abiding citizens as they live among the facilities inmates for 60 days. In jails, sanitary products are considered luxuries, so they’re pretty expensive. According to Ray, she received two pads every couple of weeks and after she ran out, she’d have to buy more. But Clark County Jail’s communication officer disputes Ray’s claim, saying the jail provides eight pads per day for eight days in a 30-day time span. They claim to provide free extra pads and that they don’t provide tampons because they could become a potential contraband issue. Ray says that her experience as an inmate and an officer tells her that these claims do not hold true. Stories like these are what motivated Flynn, the high school junior who founded “Feminine Focus,” to demand change. “There is no reason as to why a woman has to use socks, toilet paper, and plastic bottles to ensure she does not bleed through her pants while being imprisoned,” Flynn said. In at least one case, this lack of products has led to women needing emergency hysterectomies, which is the surgical removal of the uterus. In 2018, a woman in a Maryland prison required a hysterectomy because she became ill after resorting to using toilet

paper to make her own tampons, which can be a heavy expense for incarcerated women. “Twelve tampons was almost 10 bucks in jail,” said Kimberly Wright, who spent five months in Ballard County Jail in Wickliffe, Ky. Officials at the jail declined to comment over the phone and did not respond over email. Wright is now a resident of the Healing Place, a program dedicated to preparing inmates to integrate back into their normal lives. “If it wasn’t for my family and friends to put money on my books, I was gonna have to do without,” Wright said. “Putting money on the books” means an inmate has someone on the outside putting money in the inmate’s trust account which the facility maintains. This money can come from family or friends and can be used by the inmate to buy things in jail and prison. “If you don’t have anyone to put money on the books, you’re stuck with two pads. And that’s if you can get a guard to even give them to you,” Ray said. “It was like pulling teeth to get them, and it was pretty horrific to see that as being the standard.” In prison, inmates are able to work and earn an hourly wage,

but in jail, inmates have no way to earn money. In Kentucky’s prison system, inmates are paid between 13 and 33 cents an hour. That’s about 30 hours of work just to buy a box of tampons. In Wright’s experience at Ballard County, without money, you would have to do without tampons, shampoo, and even extra toilet paper if you run out. “Each person got two rolls a week, and they were awful rolls,” Wright said. “If you bought them off canteen, a roll of toilet paper was like $2.25.” A canteen is a store within a correctional facility where inmates can buy a variety of things, like hygiene products, snacks, and writing utensils. This is where inmates have to purchase additional pads, tampons, and toilet paper. “Sparing toilet paper is something you never think you’ll have to do,” said Megan Walston, a past resident and peer mentor at the Healing Place who spent time in Louisville Metro Jail. Louisville Metro Corrections did not comment after attempts to contact them through email and over the phone. “We’re human, we have to have toilet paper. It does make

HEALING HAND Kimberly Wright, a former mentor at the Healing Place, reflects on her time as an inmate at Ballard County Jail. “You try to help out, but you can’t help everybody while you’re in there,” Wright said. Photo credit: LAINEY HOLLAND

Spring/Summer 2019

ON THE RECORD

Photo illustration by LAINEY HOLLAND

you feel like less of a person when you’re begging someone for toilet paper,” Walston said. Another crucial aspect of feminine hygiene is access to clean undergarments. When underwear isn’t changed regularly, a buildup of bacteria can lead to infections, and adequate treatment can be difficult to come by if prisons don’t have specialized physicians, especially since Kentucky prisons require all care to be provided within the facility itself. “If you don’t have the proper undergarments and you go make your first impression in front of that judge, I don’t think there’s much dignity in that,” Raque Adams said. “If we’re going to incarcerate these women, we need to provide them with undergarments.” If facilities are struggling to provide basic necessities like underwear, how are they expected to handle more serious issues? Receiving adequate care only gets harder when a woman is pregnant, and according to Rauque Adams, 25% of women entering the Kentucky justice system are pregnant or have a child under one year old. The effects of the inadequate medical attention only become starker when a woman is expecting. 46 ON THE RECORD Spring/Summer 2019

Pregnant women need a certain number of nutrients along with regular appointments with a gynecologist. According to Deeley, this includes 60 grams of protein, 45 grams of carbohydrates, and 2,500 calories, depending on the trimester. “The pregnant girl I was with, she would get an 8 o’clock snack at night,” Wright said. “If she was lucky, they’d bring her some fruit from home.” Ray said that a snack, or what some prisons call a second tray, is commonly used to supplement regular meals for pregnant women. In correctional facilities, checkups are also scarce — this means the pregnancy cannot be properly monitored. In a 2011 report, American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists stated that 38 states don’t have “adequate policies” pertaining to prenatal care and 41 states don’t provide “appropriate nutrition” for pregnant incarcerated women. “It increases the risk of miscarriages, premature labor, highrisk labor, can affect their future reproductive health,” Deeley said.

What comes next? Here’s the good news: Kentucky is starting to take steps in the right

direction. In April 2018, the Kentucky Senate passed a new law to improve the conditions for women in correctional facilities. Raque Adams, a sponsor and head writer of the legislation, also dubbed it the “dignity” law. This legislation is specifically tailored to improve conditions for incarcerated women, ensuring that statewide jail standards include regulations for hygienic products, undergarments, adequate pregnancy nutrition, and prohibits the painful and dangerous practice of shackling during childbirth. Members of the community, like Flynn, are also pushing for change and making it all on their own. She’s excited to be drawing attention to a cause that she is passioiate about through her advocacy project. “Family, teachers, community members, etc, were always encouraging me to be the change I wanted to see,” Flynn said. “Feminine Focus” is a huge step toward that change for Flynn. “Women’s hygiene products should be afforded to all incarcerated females without any hesitation or price attached,” Flynn said. “The pain of the menstrual cycle is already tough in nature, why should we not afford incarcerated females items to keep themselves clean and healthy?” And don’t forget, there are also people working within the system to make a change. Ray left her job working as a guard because of her frustration with the department’s intentional neglect of the needs of the female inmates. She’s now a community correction consultant who inspects both private and public facilities to help them pass inspections. “I felt like there was more I needed to do,” Ray said. “I gotta speak up, I’ve gotta be their voice.” •

Spring 2018

ON THE RECORD