On a sunny Saturday afternoon last spring, Jeannie Witkin was walking to a friend’s house in northwest Berkeley when a stranger sexually attacked her — in broad daylight. Stunned, in pain and angry after the seconds-long assault, she immediately started screaming at the top of her lungs, kicked her assailant in the shin and snapped a photo as he fled.
Police credited that evidence and quick thinking for helping them arrest and charge Tommy Giles Jr., a 45-year-old notary public and former security guard who lived one block from Longfellow Middle School in Berkeley, within three days of the attack.
Looking back, what’s most important to Witkin is that she refused to stay silent. Rather than worry the attack wasn’t “bad enough” or worth reporting, the 61-year-old Berkeley resident said she listened to her gut, spoke out and posted his photo to NextDoor, a neighborhood social media website. She later learned that Giles had sexually battered and assaulted two other women and two girls — his victims ranging in age from 9 to 63 — in Berkeley, Albany and Oakland, including a 14-year-old who was accosted mere days after Witkin’s encounter.
“I feel like we get taught to feel bad if we’re assaulted — we’re ashamed, we don’t tell people,” Witkin said in an interview. “I want to be one voice that counteracts that. I want women to know that we can fight back and take back our power. That’s how we take care of each other and help keep the next woman safe.”
Giles was sentenced to 28 years in state prison on Monday — one year after he committed his crimes over a two-month period. He did not know any of his victims.
Rather than stand trial, Giles pleaded no contest to four felonies, including a forcible lewd act upon a child and forcible oral copulation. He was also ordered to pay $10,000 to a victims’ restitution fund and register as sexual offender. After completing his sentence, he may be sent to a hospital for further treatment, according to emails from an attorney with the Alameda County District Attorney’s Office.
Witkin’s case, in which Giles was charged with misdemeanor sexual battery, was dropped as part of his plea agreement.
Even though her actions helped to bring Giles to justice, Witkin admits it wasn’t easy speaking out.
“The biggest thing for me has been deciding that I’m going to tell my truth, even if people don’t want me to,” she said. “We’re supposed to pretend it didn’t happen or be good. But I’m so done with being ‘good’, which is subjective. What’s good is to yell and fight back and get somebody caught.”
Witkin was surprised that none of the hundreds of comments on her social media post asked what she was wearing or doing before she was attacked. But since news headlines and articles about sexual assault often focus on victims who have been raped or brutally attacked, Witkin said she had to push back against her initial reaction to downplay her experience.
“That’s tricky for women,” Witkin said. “If I had been 9 or 23 I probably would have been really scared and thought it was my fault. But I’ve lived long enough to realize that I didn’t do anything wrong — he did something wrong. I was flabbergasted, but really, I was just furious.”
Maria Suniga, who spent 24 years as a victim witness advocate — helping provide resources from housing and groceries to counseling and emotional support from the Alameda County District Attorney’s Office — knows the criminal justice system doesn’t always make it easy for victims of sexual assault to hold their attackers accountable. Survivors typically spend several months filing police reports, attending court hearings and testifying during jury trials, she said.
On top of the shame and blame that many people internalize after they’ve been abused, she said there’s often fear and hesitation to go to court and relive vulnerable, intimate experiences in a room full of strangers — and oftentimes their attacker.
Out of every 1,000 sexual assaults, only 310 are reported to police—and 28 of those cases lead to a felony conviction, according to the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network nonprofit.
Even when survivors do file reports and pursue convictions, Suniga said the process can be so dehumanizing and exhausting that many witnesses are discouraged from cooperating altogether.
“It’s hard enough the first time around, but then imagine having to relive it all over again,” Suniga said. “If they’re lucky enough to identify a suspect, fantastic. If they’re lucky enough to get the case charged, that’s even better. And if they’re lucky enough to get some sort of a conviction, that is marvelous. But there’s so much time that goes into doing that correctly.”
Advocates advise survivors of assault to preserve evidence that may contain DNA from bodily fluids, delay taking a shower, keep all the clothes and bedding involved, screenshot texts and take photographs, if it’s safe. Sharing stories on social media can be a double-edged sword, and Suniga cautions survivors to keep posts simple to avoid jeopardizing the integrity of statements given to police.
Witkin said she hopes telling her story will encourage others to share theirs.
“I’ve seen a lot of mistreatment, lack of respect and abuse of women that was tolerated for a long time and not named, and it made me really angry,” she said. “Once I was able to get in touch with my confidence, instead of feeling broken or like things were my fault, I didn’t want other people to have to feel that way.”
Source: www.mercurynews.com