CHANEL — “KNOW MY NAME” — Read Me (it)

We’d gotten an arrest, a guilty verdict, the small percentage that gets the conviction. It was time to see what justice looked like. We threw open the doors, and there was nothing. It took the breath out of me. Even worse was looking back down to the bottom of the mountain, where I imagined expectant victims looking up, waving, cheering expectantly. What do you see? What does it feel like? What happens when you arrive? What could I tell them? A system does not exist for you. The pain of this process couldn’t be worth it. These crimes are not crimes but inconveniences. You can fight and fight and for what? When you are assaulted, run and never look back. This was not one bad sentence. This was the best that we could hope for.

… To him, my lost job, my damaged hometown, my small savings account, my stolen pleasures, had all amounted to ninety days in county jail.

I wondered if, in their eyes, the victim remained stagnant, living forever in that twenty minute time frame. (p.241)

Know My Name a memoir is Chanel Miller’s story. It is a story where the survivor of an assault, pine needles permeating her upper body, abrasions painfully attacking her partially nude body — exposed to others — unconscious, 100% unconscious, was deemed the consequence of drinking too much alcohol, her choosing to pee nearby, justifiably preyed upon.