Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Feminist satire: is Saturday Night Live helping or hurting?

For almost half a century, Saturday Night Live (SNL) has entertained audiences around the world with clever, silly, and sometimes downright weird sketch comedy. As a self-proclaimed "SNL buff", I eat up every second of every show. However, my favourite sketches - the ones that make me laugh out loud and hurriedly send links to my friends - are the "feminist" sketches.

SNL's feminist sketches run the gamut in terms of subject matter and style. In "A Sketch for Women," male cast members continuously talk over their female counterparts, poking fun of "mansplaining". In "Permission," a rap/hip hop group demonstrates what respecting women's boundaries in a night club would look like. Most recently, in "Leave Me Alurn," women advertise a fake urn and lower back spikes that can be used to stop unwanted male advances.

All of the sketches leave me in stitches, but I think the reason they do is because they are rooted in reality. I am no stranger to mansplaining, inappropriate conduct on evenings out, or the unsettling feeling of a man grazing my lower back as he passes by. When SNL makes a sketch about one of my frustrating realities as a woman, though, I get to laugh at it instead of let it anger me. While I appreciate the laughs, I also wonder whether making light of these problems is perpetuating gender inequalities?

To many audiences I think the sketches make difficult subject matters approachable. Comedy, and SNL in particular, is an accessible platform. It allows people to address or encounter serious issues while maintaining a safe distance from them. One might recognize that the driving force behind "Leave Me Alurn" is the presumption that men have the right to invade women's spaces, but they do not have to engage with the seriousness of that premise because the jokes take center stage.

While this could be interpreted as dismissive of the underlying issues, there is something to be said for the effectiveness of creating a palatable platform. For example, Gilette's most recent ad, "We Believe: The Best Men Can Be," challenges toxic masculinity and references the #MeToo movement by encouraging men to "be better" than violence, bullying, and sexual harassment. The ad received almost instant criticism, largely from males, who were angry that Gilette seemed to presume that all males were bullies, violent people, or sexual harassers.

To me, it seems that the seriousness of the Gilette ad was immediately off-putting for male audiences. The ad confronted men with the suggestion that traditional gender roles have created a culture that breeds a certain type of man. The ad did not give space for viewers to make light of the serious message. Accordingly, men shut down; they were no longer receptive to the conversation about the negative effects of traditional masculinity.

In contrast, SNL's "Permission" similarly focuses on men's shortcomings as they pertain to sexual harassment and assault, but its reception is predominantly positive. YouTube comments on the video include countless men praising the song, if not for its lyrics (comedic and meaningful), then for its musical quality and use of popular rappers. On other feminist satire sketches, a common comment is somewhere along the lines of, "I don't agree with the premise, but you have to admit this is funny".

Similarly, comedic newspapers often have great success on social media. Reductress, a satiric online news platform with female-centric content, publishes quippy, humourous articles about the female experience. Some examples are: "Woman Nails Job Interview With Future Harasser," "Study Shows Women Have Happier Relationships When Their Partners Aren't Total Douchebags," and "Wow! This Working Class Mom Is Forced to Have It All". The humour brings in a wide audience, who then must acknowledge, to a certain extent, the underlying issue in order to get the joke.

SNL, Reductress, and other similar platforms provide an accessible, non-threatening avenue through which people can learn about inequalities. Feminist satire makes those who would otherwise not be receptive to the notion of gender inequalities, engage with them in some way. But, do women have to make fun of themselves for people to listen?

It is frustrating that entertainment/media seemingly caters to the sensitivities of more narrow-minded audiences. As evidenced by Gilette, content creators have to calculate how much reality - or seriousness - they can put into their content without alienating viewers. Soften it too much, though, and it is likely that the social or political commentary doesn't come across at all.

To this point, I think SNL generally strikes a good balance. Granted SNL's audience leans left, which means they can afford blunter statements with fewer repercussions, but SNL does not obscure a message in search of a laugh. There is usually a healthy balance of humour and commentary.

While SNL sketches may not be groundbreaking forces of social change, I think they serve an important purpose. Many people do not feel comfortable talking to family or friends about sexism, sexual harassment, etc., but they do feel comfortable sharing an SNL sketch that comments on it. SNL can be a great jumping off point for deeper conversation. It can also provide a visual representation of how ridiculous some inequalities are in real life.

I believe the idea of feminist SNL sketches is a good one, but I would be remiss not to mention the lack of experiences represented in the sketches thus far. It is no secret that SNL has a diversity problem. A cast member has never identified as Asian-American. The show's first openly gay cast member, Kate McKinnon, only joined the show in 2012. Furthermore, the show's supposed "diversity push" has resulted in only three men, and three women of colour on the current cast. In other words, SNL remains very white and heterosexual.

Because SNL lacks writers and actors with varied experiences, they do not showcase the full range of inequalities that women face, specifically those that deal with race, ethnicity, and sexuality. Until SNL hires individuals who can bring intersectional issues to light, the show's feminist sketches will continue to perpetuate a narrow set of issues related to gender.

At the end of the day Saturday Night Live exists to make people laugh. Its purpose is not to advocate for social change. However, as the show becomes more political, it must recognize that as an institution in American entertainment, it often influences the country's social milieu.

Currently, its politically and socially charged sketches (including feminist sketches) adequately toe the line between reality and comedy. But, without greater representation of the experiences women face, whatever good is done by feminist satire is minimized by the lack of experiences shown. Until this changes, I will keep watching and sharing the feminist messages that do appear on the show, but will find and share other outlets that represent diverse female experiences more robustly.

Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Do our differences keep us from creating a more revolutionary feminism?

During one of my 1L classes, a professor brought up the #MeToo movement. At the time, the hashtag was appearing all over social media. Our professor asked what we thought about the movement and offered an opinion from on of her female friends who had survived a traumatic and brutal rape.

My professor explained that their friend did not support the #MeToo movement because she did not want to equate her violent rape to someone else's sexual harassment. Not only did she feel like there was no comparison to someone else's non-rape trauma, she believed that participating in the movement by posting "#MeToo" on social media if you had survived a "less" traumatic experience took the focus away from those who survived brutal rapes.

My jaw dropped. At first, I was completely shocked. I could not believe that someone felt that way. From my perspective, the #MeToo movement was an opportunity to band together with other sexual assault survivors.

I myself am a survivor. And I have to admit that I have found myself comparing my trauma to someone else's trauma and thinking, "I am so grateful I didn't have to go through that," or "At least they didn't have to go through what I went through." But why? Is there truly a spectrum? Am I naïve to think we should all be present for one another without having these feelings?

The bottom line is that the experiences of survivors are all different, and there is no comparison among experiences because--as humans--we are all affected differently and have different capacities for processing trauma. However, I don't think anyone would argue with what my professor's friend was saying: her sexual assault is likely more traumatic than other survivor's experiences that did not involve the specific acts she endured.

But why do the differences in our trauma and suffering dictate the integrity of a movement? Why is it that womyn, even within the same struggle, differentiate themselves so that the experiences of some don't seem "traumatic" enough?

Following this class, I tried to understand why this friend felt this way, why the value of this movement felt so much clearer to me than it did to her. I never found an answer, but this narrative recently resurfaced for me.

After reading Susan Chira's Women Don't Think Alike. Why Do We Think They Do?, the shock I felt in my 1L class discussing the #MeToo movement reappeared.

Many womyn, especially older womyn, did not necessarily think Dr. Blasey Ford was lying, but felt that the proper thing to do was suffer in silence the way they had several years ago. The reasons for the lack of solidarity seem to be the lack of acceptance of sexual assault as an issue when these womyn were younger and the lack of adequate resources for survivors (not that we're passing this test with flying colors today).

I again came across this same general sense of disconnectedness while reading Julie Hirschfeld Davis' and Katie Rogers' At Trump Rallies, Women See a Hero Protecting a Way of Life. Some of the womyn who support 45 brush off his sexist remarks by saying they can take the heat, almost as if womyn who do not support him can't hang. Other womyn respond to his remarks by saying that they did not vote for hime because of his character or that voting for him doesn't mean they agree with everything he says.

Many of these womyn have decided that other issues, such as abortion and immigration or the power they gain from being married to powerful white men, are more important that 45's sexual assault rhetoric and actions. Again, we see the differences in our experiences taking priority over our role in the feminist movement.

What I understand even less is why some womyn have views that not only fail to promote equality, but actually hinder any growth. For instance, when I read of 45's pick for Kavanaugh's replacement on the D.C. Circuit, I was surprised he had chosen someone who I believed to be a womxn of color. After reading more about her, I realized how unsurprising this pick was. One of Neomi Rao's beliefs is that womyn can avoid potential date rape by staying "reasonably" sober. Rao definitely likes to victim blame. What is still astonishing to me is that she is not a man holding these views.

I think to myself, "How can someone who has likely fallen victim to one of the many systems of oppression the patriarchy has created have these views?"

I realize that many of us have internalized the patriarchy and cultural notions of machismo. But many of us have also been able to recognize the problems and inequalities that stem from living in a patriarchy. And I can't figure out where the disconnect lies between those individuals who promote sexist views, those who ignore them, and those who are actively fighting against them.

In all of this I have yet to figure out why our differences seem to be hindering our growth as feminists or why these "feminist" issues are placed on the backburner. Is this just another symptom of the patriarchy?

Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Incarceration and its costs on women

The New York Times article, entitled “Report Details Economic Hardships for Inmate Families” discussed a recent study by the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights. The report, entitled “Who Pays: The True Cost of Incarceration on Families,” showed that the costs of the criminal justice system and incarceration are not just burdens on the offender, but are significant burdens on their families.

The study found that on average, families paid over $13,000 for court costs, including court fees and fines, attorneys’ fees, bail, and restitution, and that 83% of the family members primarily responsible for those costs were women.

The cost of supporting an incarcerated family member during their imprisonment and maintaining contact with them can easily add up. Phone calls, commissary, medical co-pays, and traveling to the prison to visit, which can include hotel stays, gas, and food, add up to hundreds to thousands of dollars a year. People surveyed reported spending over $1,000 on a single prison visit to their loved one.

Maintaining connections between people in prison and their family or other support networks is important for the maintenance of the family unit and helps with the re-entry of the incarcerated person post-imprisonment. However, as shown in the study by the Ella Baker Center, this support requires a significant financial commitment by the imprisoned person’s family.

According to a University of Washington study, 44 percent of black women and 12 percent of white women have a family member imprisoned, compared with 32 percent of black men and 6 percent of white men. This data conforms to what we know about the racial make up of prison populations.

A study by the Public Policy Institute of California found that at the end of 2016 29% of male prisoners in state prison were African American, while only 6% of the state’s male residents are African American. A total of three out of four male prisoners in California are nonwhite.

Black people are both over represented in terms of the number of people who are incarcerated, and the number of black women who support them. This, combined with income inequality of women contributes to the difficulties of maintaining family connections with people in prison and further accentuates the burdens on women of color.

In 2017 women made, on average, 80.5% as much as white men in similar positions with similar qualifications. For women of color the pay gap is greater. According to the Institute for Women’s Policy Research, in 2017 compared to white men’s income, black women made 60.8%, Hispanic/Latina women made 53%, white women made 77% and Asian women made 85.1%.

While the economic inequality of women and criminal justice reform are frequently discussed in public discourse, the deep connections between the two are not often made. Court fines and fees, which are often paid not by the offender, but by their family members, punish families and subject them to greater levels of poverty.

California has shifted its focus in recent years from punishment to rehabilitation, yet prisons and jails still charge exorbitant amounts of money for phone calls and commissary. Prisons are regularly located in remote area and people in prison are transferred to prisons far away from their family for various reasons which create barriers and additional costs to visitation and maintenance of family connections.

If California is in fact interested in women’s economic inequality and rehabilitating offenders it needs to address who is truly impacted by the economic costs of incarceration.

Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Bitter Flowers: Chinese street girls in Paris

In the late 1990’s, China’s economy underwent rapid growth. The Northeast region of China became the frontier of this industrial transformation. Traditional manufacturing became obsolete and as a result, the rate of unemployment became very high. Unfortunately, most of the laid-off workers were women. Many of these women flocked to Paris hoping to make their fortunes, but hunger and homelessness forced them to work as prostitutes. In 2013, French director Nael Marandin wanted to tell the story of these Chinese prostitutes in Paris. Marandin had been volunteering with the World Health Organization for more than seven years, and he regularly provides medical and legal services to sex workers in Paris. Marandin’s 2015 film, She Walks(La Marchevse), surprised many audiences because it reveals the real life of the Chinese street girls.

According to the report of Le Parisien, on December 13, 2016, Paris police found a 39-year-old Chinese female corpse in an apartment in the Notre-Dame-de-Nazareth district. The deceased woman was recognized as a Chinese sex worker. She had been beaten before she was killed. This situation is not rare in France. By 2016, the number of Chinese ‘registered’ sex workers had reached 1,300 or more in Paris. But Government records indicate that the total number of Parisian sex workers consists of between 5,000 to 8,000. Chinese sex workers take up a big part of them.

During this period, an increasing number of Chinese women went to Paris because prostitution in France was legal until April, 2016. Many of these women came to France because they and their families were poor and believed that they could make a big fortune quickly. What's more, some women are making money for a luxurious life through prostitution. Whatever the purpose, Chinese sex workers are all trapped in the same dilemma. Eighty-six percent of Chinese sex workers admitted that they suffered at least one violent act from a customer. Most violence occurred when a sex worker insisted that the client should wear a condom.

Many cases are similar to the report in Le Parisien. On August 2, 2012, a sex worker from Jiangxi, China was strangled by a Palestinian young man after he refused to pay her. Besides physical harm, Chinese sex workers' property is also in danger. It is easy for customers to rob Chinese sex workers because these women exist in very fragile circumstances in France and it is difficult for them to protect themselves.

The primary issue is that almost all of the sex workers are without a required legal residence permit and, thus, cannot call the police or contact officials to ask for help . Second, local Chinese people distain the Chinese sex workers. Even if they beg for help, it is very possible that no one is willing to intervene. As a result, sex workers are forced to bear and digest the harm that they experience from society. What they believe is that they must endure pain and sorrow because they need money for their families or themselves. No matter what happens to their bodies or their hearts, Chinese girls will bite the bullet.

Prostitution is a topic relate to many fields of law including immigration law, administrative law and criminal law. From the angle of criminal law, Chinese sex workers are exposed to sexual assault, robbery and murder every day. French law punishes pimps and customers. The regulation of la penalisation des clients stipulates that the penalty for sex worker clients can reach 1500 euros, while the 'recidivism' of repeated transactions can be fined by up to 3750 euros. But punishing pimps and customers doesn't solve the problem. Sex workers have held demonstrations to protest the government's decision because they are losing customers.

In order to maintain their livelihoods, they have no choice but to cut prices, even to as low as 10 euros per trick. Occasionally, they are forced to engage in sex without condoms. What they express is that their desire for money is greater than their desire for legal protection. However, helping sex workers make money is not the duty of law. Another way of caring for sex workers that has emerged is 'Lotus Bus' in Paris. Lotus Bus regularly sends out free condoms to sex workers. Also, this organization holds AIDS prevention activities and other helpful programs for sex workers.

Besides France’s efforts, what are other ways to deal with Chinese sex workers’ problems regarding their livelihoods and the need to keep them away from the constant threat of danger. We need to address the root of the question. The source of this story goes back to human trafficking. More resources and money need to be put into preventing and punishing human trafficking. Another problem is the conflict between legalization of sex workers and punishment for their clients. Governments can assist sex workers by setting up career training programs to improve their professional skills. Courts are able to seal or eliminate records of sex workers if they stay in the training programs for a specific period of time. Another area for consideration is legalizing the contractual relationship between sex workers and customers as has occurred in Germany. This provides a means for sex workers to sue customers who refuse to pay for their services.

Bitter Flowers, which came out in 2017, is the latest movie regarding Chinese sex workers in Paris and was featured at various film festivals, such as Busan International Film Festival. Just like the name of the film, Chinese sex workers in Paris are living with sorrow and in darkness. Meanwhile, they dress like flowers to attract the attention of potential customers. Their difficulties push them to become stronger in the frigid Paris winter, but bitter flowers also need love and care to thrive.

Sexual assault and identity

I want begin with a trigger warning at the beginning of this post. I recount  graphic jokes involving sexual assault and rape that will be dissected for their unintentional contribution to a discussion on how people subvert parts of their identities to better help communities they are part of, and some structural fixes to help survivors of sexual assault.

I pass no judgement about the experiences of those talked about in this piece; they were all put into an impossible situation and did what they thought was best at the time, and I cannot fathom what I would do in that situation.

I was recently watching Kathrine Ryan’s 2015 stand-up special to blow off some steam. She is a white woman, born in Canada, who now resides as a single-mother in the United Kingdom. I have been struggling with a joke I heard on the special that went:
But on a serious note, a lot of women who were allegedly assaulted by Mr. Cosby were strong, power beautiful black women like me. And when asked, ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Ha! In addition to the many reasons why victims don’t come forward, these women were, like, ‘Hang on a minute. Look at the times.’ Because it didn’t happen today. Though it still happens today. Free Kesha. They were, like, ‘it happened a very long time ago,’ when these were struggling, young black actresses in America, and Mr. Cosby, a black man in the ‘80s there, was dominating television. They said, ‘I didn’t really feel like it was in my greater interest to bring that man down.’ And I have to tell you, on some level, as a female comedian, I kind of get that. Tina Fey could be raping me now, and I would tell no one. Amy Schumer could be wearing me like a watch, and I would just be like thank you for everything that you do for women in our industry.
While the jokes themselves are extremely crass and many would take offense at them, they accidentally stumble into a weird analysis of intersectional feminism and subverting identities that seem to address three completely different experiences of sexual assault.

The first situation Kathrine Ryan addresses discusses actors who were relatively unknown (here meaning not famous), black, and female, in the context of their sexual assault by a famous, black, male actor, Bill Cosby. These assaults occurred in the 80s and 90s, a time when sexual assault victims were less likely to be believed. This lack of belief then led to a lack of reporting, and the two functioned in a feedback loop. drastically aggravating each other.

In this situation, multiple identities are at issue, and some were subverted for the benefit of others. Bill Cosby exerting his power over women ties into his identities as both famous and male, while the sexual assault he inflicts ties into the survivor's identities as unknown actors and as women. Additionally, these women said that they did not want to hinder his career because he was paving a way for black actors. These women essentially saw their identities as women as being at odds with their black identities. So, they subverted their identities as women to better serve their other identities, benefiting other aspects of their communities. They did not want to feel like they were betraying the black community. That became a factor in them deciding not to report. Another prominent factor was the time the women were living in.

The second situation Kathrine Ryan addresses is an imaginary one that involves herself, a comedian who is famous, white, and female, and Tina Fey and Amy Schumer, two comedians who are both white, female, and arguably much more famous than Katherine. Fey and Schumer have also likely trailblazed the way for more women to be invited into comedic community than Ryan has.

This situation does not have the same race implications as the first situation, and also does not feature a subversion of identity. But, Ryan, even though jokingly, says that she would keep quiet about a sexual assault by one of these women because of all they have done and are doing for women. In her hypothetical, she still seems willing to subvert her individual trauma for the betterment of her community, which is here aspiring female comics.

The last assault involves Kesha, a musician who is a white woman, and the trauma she experienced at the hands of Doctor Luke, a music producer who is white and a man. While this is mentioned only in passing (“Free Kesha”), it evokes a well-documented assault and legal fight involving Kesha and Dr. Luke. Kesha’s incident is completely different from the first two for two reasons.

First, Kesha reported her assault and even sued Dr. Luke for the harm he had caused her. In the first two situations, the survivors did not report.

Second, Kesha was willing to give up her music career in order to get justice for her assault. She was willing to lose her identity, her career, as a musician in order to try, with no guarantee, to get justice for the sexual assault she experienced because she was a woman. She was willing to subvert her needs as a musician to seek justice. This is the only situation where the assaulted survivor gave her identity as a woman primacy over her other identities.

So, what can we learn from this thought experiment? No one should be forced to choose between parts of their identity. We as a society should be doing everything in our power to remove the barriers to reporting sexual assault. If we do that, women will not be forced to subvert their needs to help others, for some apparent greater good. Two possible solutions could help in these situations.

First, in the first and second situations, better racial and gender representation on television would have given the attackers less power. In the first situation, if Bill Cosby had not been one of only a handful of black actors on television, his career and reputation would not have been as important to the black community. In the second situation, if the dearth of female-driven comedies and writer’s rooms did not exist, Kathrine would not have felt the need to make the joke about her not to be willing to report her imaginary sexual assault. Both instances show the real-world impact of diversity in media. The more diverse we make television and entertainment industries more broadly, the less power those in that industry wield.

Second, in the first and third situations, social stigma was cited as a barrier for survivors deciding not not to reporting. We can remove this barrier by believe survivors when they come forward. This would lessen the stigma surrounding the experience of surviving a sexual assault would be less.

If we look at both these issues, the first being cultural and the second being structural, then we can make it less likely that there will be sexual assault, and when there is, then we can make it easier for survivors of sexual assault to report their assault and get justice.

Killing the “less dead”: Sam Little


It is an unfortunate reality that there are people who exist who find excitement and pleasure in killing. It is even more unfortunate that when these people turn the corner and become serial killers, they grow ever more aware of new methods to avoid capture. One method, however, that has remained a timeless strategy for killers seeking to remain undetected is to kill the “less dead.”

The term less dead applies to many victims of serial killers. It is used to define the people whom society has deemed less important. These are the marginalized groups - the people who attract less attention and whose faces networks decide are not worthy of broadcast. These are mostly people of color, sex workers, LGBTQ, and the poor.

These groups generally lack status and social standing and are ignored and devalued by the  community. Therefore the police tend to give only a cursory glance to the deaths or disappearances of those from marginalized backgrounds, if that. These women are the perfect victims for someone looking to kill without making headlines or attract the attention of law enforcement.

Through my next few blog posts, I will examine specific instances of marginalized women dying or disappearing at the hands of serial killers known or unknown. I will attempt to unpack how society has treated these crimes and if there has been any change in the last few years to how crimes like these are investigated. I also wish to use this space to give recognition for the victims of these crimes, many of whom have yet to see justice served against those who harmed them.

This brings me to the main focus of this first blog: Sam Little. Little is confirmed to have killed at least 34 marginalized women between 1970 and 2005. However, that number pales in comparison to the at least 90 women he has confessed to murdering during his lifetime.

Despite the fact the federal investigators in charge of identifying the victims have stated Little is one of the most prolific serial killers in U.S. history, he has not received the attention other serial killers operating around the same time have gotten.

For example, Ted Bundy was also active during 1970, the same time as Little. Bundy is a household name with countless documentaries and movies written about him (the most recent set to star Zac Efron) while Little is obscure and scarcely discussed. This is because the women Bundy killed were white college co-eds, and the women Little killed were almost exclusively sex workers of color.

To focus on his crimes in Los Angeles in particular, Little has stated in 1987 alone he killed six black women. Little then left Los Angeles to kill elsewhere, only to return between 1990 and 1993 to kill an additional five women and again in 1996 to kill four women.

One of these women, Guadalupe Apodaca, was found in an abandoned parking garage in South Central Los Angeles. This was almost exactly where the kidnappers of Patty Hearst, the famous white heiress, were gunned down in front of a media frenzy. There were no stories in the media about Apodaca’s death.

It wasn’t until April 2012 when Los Angeles detective Mitzi Roberts began to enter cold cases into DNA databases that Sam Little was connected forensically to Apodaca’s murder. As Roberts began to investigate Little, she noticed a disturbing trend in his convictions and crimes. While he was sentenced to lengthy prison terms for crimes like robbing a furniture store, when Little was found guilty in 1976 of “assault with attempt to ravish” for strangling, raping, sodomizing, and beating Pamela Smith, he was only sentenced to three months.

In these instances, society sent a clear message to Little and other killers: attack women of color and you’ll get a pass, but if you try to steal property you’re going away.

Little’s victims knew this themselves. One victim, Leila McClain, who was able to escape Little before he killed her told Roberts why she didn’t report the attack to the police. She said:
Ain’t nobody cared until that white girl (Melinda LePerre; Little was acquitted of her murder) turned up dead a year later. Didn’t nobody care about a black prostitute in Mississippi. No, ma’am, they didn’t.

This reality is something Little was acutely aware of. In an interview with a reporter in December 2018, Little revealed that the reason he chose women of color and sex workers was because he knew the police didn’t investigate those crimes. He was aware the rest of society didn’t seem to care if these women died. Little explained:
 I never killed no senators or governors or fancy New York journalists. Nothing like that. [If] I killed you, it’d be all over the news the next day. I stayed in the ghettos.

It wasn’t until someone finally did care that Little’s reign of terror came to an end. It is because of Detective Mitzi Roberts that the murders in Los Angeles began to be connected to Little. Roberts’ dedication in her investigation of Little revealed not only another confirmed murder victim in LA, but also multiple survivors of Little’s attacks, including Leila McClain.

It was with this dedication, and the courage of survivors like McClain testifying, that Little was finally brought to justice in 2014. After a lengthy trial filled with criminalists, expert witnesses, police officers, and pathologists, Little was convicted of three counts of first-degree murder and sentenced to three consecutive life sentences.

Little’s crimes show us the pervasive impact racism and sexism have on the safety of women. Little was able to commit so many murders because he realized that if he killed women who society did not care about no one would even bother to look for him.

In my opinion, this case shows the importance of having women, specifically women of color work in investigative capacities. If it weren’t for the increase in female detectives such as Roberts, it is unclear how long Little would be able to remain an anonymous killer.

Although Little is serving three life sentences, there are still over 50 victims that have yet to be identified. The FBI has generated a list of these unidentified victims using descriptions from Little himself. This list can be found here.