The importance of the Harvey Weinstein case
Annabella Sciorra choked up Thursday telling a jury how Harvey Weinstein raped her: ‘I was punching him, I was kicking him, I was trying to get him away from me.’
The “Sopranos” actress was the first accuser to take the stand in the Weinstein trial. The former Hollywood giant is charged with five sex crimes, including rape and sexual assault, from encounters with two women, one in 2013, one in 2006. He denies the accusations and says the encounters were consensual.
Sciorra’s allegation is not included in the charges because it’s too old to prosecute under the statute of limitations. Prosecutors had her testify to bolster the “predatory” charges against Weinstein.
More than 80 women have publicly accused Weinstein of sexual misconduct or crimes since The New York Times and The New Yorker reported on accusations against him in October 2017.
The trial takes place in a Manhattan courtroom that holds about 100. Journalists start lining up outside at 4 a.m. to get one of 70 reserved seats. The public gets the other 30.
USA TODAY’s Patrick Ryan waits in that line. He knows the importance of this story.
“Weinstein was the tipping point of the Me Too movement,” Ryan says. “It opened the floodgates for so many other victims to come forward.”
So many accusations. So many denials. And a few apologies.
Hollywood. Media. Tech. Athletics. Military academies. Hospitality industry. Universities. Community organizations.
One by one – tearfully, fearlessly or angrily – women (and men) shared their stories.
The country was listening.
The Harvey Weinstein story is about so much more than Harvey Weinstein.
USA TODAY investigative reporter Marisa Kwiatkowski was a lead reporter on the Indianapolis Star story that revealed the abuse by USA Gymnastics doctor Larry Nassar.
These cases are, in part, about power, she says. “Nassar was a prominent sports physician. Some survivors felt that they wouldn’t be believed because of his reputation. Some adults did discount allegations because of who he was.”
By the time he was sentenced to 40 to 175 years in jail for criminal sexual conduct, more than 150 women had shared their stories of abuse.
Such cases are also often about negligence.
“You see this with Boy Scouts, who hundreds of accusers say have not made meaningful steps in resolving the crisis they’re facing and are now looking at potential financial restructuring, including bankruptcy,” investigative reporter Cara Kelly says. “You see it with Uber and Lyft, who are accused, and our reporting has backed, of putting public perception above their riders.”
Perhaps most of all, these cases are about deep breaths, brave conversations – and accountability.
In the first year after actress Alyssa Milano asked women who had been sexually harassed or assaulted to post “Me Too” on Twitter, according to Pew Research Center, the #MeToo hashtag was used more than 19 million times. (Activist Tarana Burke started the phrase and movement in 2006.)
“The Weinstein victims broke the dam of silence – and have made everyone from 21-year-old women assaulted by their Lyft drivers to 70-year-old men abused by their Scoutmasters feel empowered to speak,” Kelly says.
Sexual abuse is horrific for the violation itself – and the shame it leaves behind. Shame thrives in secrecy. It paralyzes.
When victims talk about their experiences, the grip lessens.
And, as a good friend says, courage is contagious.
“I’ve talked to so many grown men who were sharing their stories for the first time,” Kelly says. “They were so deeply ashamed, they couldn’t have dreamed of telling anyone when it happened. And now they’re crying with a reporter they’ve never met, explaining the pain and trauma it caused.
“This never would have happened before Weinstein or #metoo went viral. And neither would the accountability.”
And that is why Ryan will line up with other reporters outside that courtroom each morning. The Harvey Weinstein story is an important one to cover. And it is about far more than Harvey Weinstein.
The NCAA will review policies on sexual misconduct after USA TODAY Network investigation.
Our investigation found that although college athletes can be punished for grades, drugs and accepting free meals or money, the NCAA Division I handbook has no punishments for sexual, violent or criminal misconduct. Athletes can even be suspended from one school for rape but transfer to another and continue playing.
In January 2019, investigative reporter Kenny Jacoby got a tip that a University of Oregon professor had documents detailing how the U.S. Education Department helped scrub the record of a former Duck football player expelled for raping two female students.
That athlete transferred from Oregon to a junior college, then to an NCAA Division I school in Texas, where he remains an NFL prospect. After convincing the professor to share the documents, Jacoby began to dig deeper into the NCAA’s lack of transfer regulations for dangerous athletes.
This review by the NCAA comes amid pressure from members of Congress. Days after the USA TODAY Network investigation, they filed a bill to conduct an independent study of the NCAA’s lack of accountability for such athletes.
“This is huge,” says investigations managing editor Emily Le Coz. “The NCAA refused to answer our questions. They did not participate in the yearlong investigation. It was a complete stonewalling.
“The NCAA now realizes this is a problem bigger than themselves. And if they don’t fix it, someone else will.”