Rape Remains a Vessel for Shame

If Kobe Bryant’s accuser proceeds with her civil suit, she won’t be Jane Doe. A federal judge in Denver says her real name will be used, thereby ensuring that plaintiff and defendant will “appear as equals” in the courtroom.

I couldn’t agree more with his sentiment. Accuser and accused, each entitled to a day in court, with no shame or guilt attached until we have a verdict.

If only, when it comes to sexual assault, that were the world we live in.

Instead, too many women still feel they can’t or shouldn’t come forward with legitimate rape accusations because they will be shamed -- either by the crime itself or by irrelevant questions about their personal histories that inevitably will come up in court. We should live in a world where a rape victim feels no more shame than a burglary victim, but we don’t.

Until we do, rape will remain the underreported crime it is.

This is a lead-in to an update on Bridget Kelly, the 27-year-old daughter of longtime family friends whom I’ve known all her life. Two summers ago, she was in her Texas apartment in the wee hours when a stranger burst through her dead-bolted door and abducted her. In the ensuing hour, he robbed her at an ATM, raped her in a field and shot her three times. After he fled, believing she was dead, she made it to someone’s house and was rescued from the brink of death.

After recovering, Bridget began a crusade she never had imagined: She talked openly about being a rape victim and, in essence, urged other victims not to live with their haunting secret.

I’ve heard her speak on the subject, and her message is so strong that she’s been featured on ABC and CBS, and the BBC radio network. She has taped public service announcements, and Redbook magazine recently honored her for her outspokenness in promoting rape awareness.

Ironically, when her newspaper columnist father first wrote about the attack on Bridget, his paper’s policy prevented him from saying she’d been raped. This was even after Bridget had told him from her hospital bed, “It’s OK if they say ‘rape.’ ”

Her point then, as it remains today, is that any stigma lies with the rapist, not the victim.

Yet, while urging victims to tell someone about the attack, she never insists that they publicly identify themselves.

I talked to her recently by phone, not long after her Redbook award and 28 months since the attack. “I don’t think anyone should be pressured into using their name in public,” she says, “but, on the other hand, I don’t think they should be discouraged or scared away from it. Like with Dad’s paper, it was like they were trying to protect me in a way, but I didn’t know what they were trying to protect me from.”

She disagrees with the forced identification of Bryant’s accuser, saying women still will be discouraged from reporting rape if they know they’ll be identified.

Therein lies the conflict that society hasn’t settled.

I’d shout from the rafters that rape victims shouldn’t feel shame or fear identification. But I also accept that rape allegations -- especially when they involve people who know each other -- have a potential context that may need to be explored to arrive at a verdict. And I realize that may involve the airing of personal histories that may prove embarrassing.

In a perfect world, I’d identify accusers in rape cases -- if only to reinforce the long-overdue idea that an honest accusation brings absolutely no shame upon them.

But our world is far from perfect. Too many women still would be deterred from leveling legitimate accusations if they knew they’d be identified.

So, though I wish the Jane Does of the world could be replaced in every courtroom by real names, we’re not there yet.

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821 or at dana.parsons@latimes.com. An archive of his recent columns is at www.latimes.com/parsons.