Over the course of a month, the Nate Parker story blew up. Literally nothing he said could make the situation more palatable. Parker was charged and put on trial for rape in 1999. The details of the case were always public record, but following the Sundance premiere of Parker’s film, The Birth of a Nation, the studio hoped to put Parker front and center of an Oscar campaign. And that meant putting Parker front and center for press availability ahead of official release of the film. Every interview Parker has given in the past month has made the situation worse. In fact, I would argue that with each interview, Parker has gotten progressively worse. The last interview was the one he did with Ebony more than a week ago. It was profoundly disturbing.

Throughout the past month, some wondered if the cast of The Birth of a Nation would say anything about Parker publicly. Some even name-checked Gabrielle Union, who plays a small but significant role in the film – her character’s rape is used as a the catalyst for Nat Turner’s Rebellion, even though many historians take issue with that idea entirely. Union has spoken publicly before about how she was raped when she was a teenager, and it made me uncomfortable to think that people were like “Gabby needs to speak about this.” She might not have even known, and even if she did, let’s keep our eye on the ball: Parker is the bad guy here, not the actors in the cast. We shouldn’t re-victimize a rape survivor just because of her proximity to an accused rapist.

In any case, Union has finally spoken out. She wrote an op-ed for the Los Angeles Times, which you can read in its entirety here. She writes about her own rape, how “rape is a wound that throbs long after it heals.” How she has been “in a state of stomach-churning confusion” since she learned more about Parker’s past. How black women in particular are voiceless in discussions about sexual assault, consent and more. Then she counters with what is basically an argument for what she is doing personally, and how she will approach the conversations around this film:

As important and ground-breaking as this film is, I cannot take these allegations lightly. On that night, 17-odd years ago, did Nate have his date’s consent? It’s very possible he thought he did. Yet by his own admission he did not have verbal affirmation; and even if she never said “no,” silence certainly does not equal “yes.” Although it’s often difficult to read and understand body language, the fact that some individuals interpret the absence of a “no” as a “yes” is problematic at least, criminal at worst. That’s why education on this issue is so vital.

As a black woman raising brilliant, handsome, talented young black men, I am cognizant of my responsibility to them and their future. My husband and I stress the importance of their having to walk an even straighter line than their white counterparts. A lesson that is heartbreaking and infuriating, but mandatory in the world we live in. We have spent countless hours focused on manners, education, the perils of drugs. We teach them about stranger-danger and making good choices. But recently I’ve become aware that we must speak to our children about boundaries between the sexes. And what it means to not be a danger to someone else. To that end, we are making an effort to teach our sons about affirmative consent. We explain that the onus is on them to explicitly ask if their partner consents. And we tell them that a shrug or a smile or a sigh won’t suffice. They have to hear “yes.”

Regardless of what I think may have happened that night 17 years ago, after reading all 700 pages of the trial transcript, I still don’t actually know. Nor does anyone who was not in that room. But I believe that the film is an opportunity to inform and educate so that these situations cease to occur on college campuses, in dorm rooms, in fraternities, in apartments or anywhere else young people get together to socialize.

I took this part in this film to talk about sexual violence. To talk about this stain that lives on in our psyches. I know these conversations are uncomfortable and difficult and painful. But they are necessary. Addressing misogyny, toxic masculinity, and rape culture is necessary. Addressing what should and should not be deemed consent is necessary. Think of all the victims who, like my character, are silent. The girls sitting in their dorm rooms, scared to speak up. The wife who is abused by her husband. The woman attacked in an alley. The child molested. Countless souls broken from trans-violence attacks. It is for you that I am speaking. This is real. We are real. Sexual violence happens more often than anyone can imagine. And if the stories around this film do not prove and emphasize this, then I don’t know what does.

It is my hope that we can use this as an opportunity to look within. To open up the conversation. To reach out to organizations which are working hard to prevent these kinds of crimes. And to support its victims. To donate time or money. To play an active role in creating a ripple that will change the ingrained misogyny that permeates our culture. And to eventually wipe the stain clean.

[From LAT]

I think Union is walking a fine line here, mostly because she’s proud of her work in the film and she genuinely wants to be part of a larger dialogue about sexual violence and rape. She’s very clearly giving Parker the benefit of the doubt, regardless of his own admissions and problematic statements. Would it be satisfying to see Union break professional ties with Parker publicly? Sure. But were people really expecting her to? She’s not acting as an apologist for him or for rapists in general, she’s just using this moment to draw attention to the larger conversation. The problem is that it won’t work. Because as soon as Parker opens his mouth again, that will be the story.

Photos courtesy of Getty, WENN.