The Nomenclature of Power

Rachael Denhollander in ‘Athlete A.’ Photo courtesy of Netflix.

In the final scenes of Athlete A, a Netflix documentary about the sexual abuse of USA Gymnastics athletes, prosecutor Angela Povilaitis calls woman after woman to the front of the courtroom. Dancers, gymnasts, coaches, and Olympians — 204 in all — described the violations they endured at the hands of Larry Nassar, the head doctor and physical therapist for USA Gymnastics. 

In headlines and news articles, reporters called these women victims. 

A victim is defined by an experience that happened to them against their will: “a victim of [fill in the blank].” Calling someone a victim reinforces the power of an abuser, whether a person or a system, because victims are known in relation to the terrible thing that they endured.

Soldiers returning from war are veterans, not victims. First responders who save lives in the aftermath of disasters are called heroes. We don’t think about victims living fulfilling lives, or committing great acts of bravery. The word “victim” conjures images of broken things. 

This nomenclature, or naming of power, is everywhere once you know to look for it. For decades, leaders in the United States sent humanitarian aid to what they called “developing” countries so they could follow the same path toward technological advancement as the Western world. The Western path to industrialization notoriously destroys environments, and our way of life has an outsized and unsustainable impact on global warming. The United States, and much of the Western world, disregarded the wisdom and value of local knowledge and customs in favor of their own concept of what a developed country should look like.

We see the same dynamic play out in how we talk about marginalized communities and communities of color. In the Black Lives Matter movement, for example, we talk about neighborhoods victimized by police brutality. We shouldn’t minimize the atrocities that police officers and people in power have committed, nor the casual racism embedded in our society. But we also shouldn’t define people by the worst things that have happened to them. 

Some communities that have endured physical and societal abuses are incredibly resilient. They’re entrepreneurial. They’re strong. We should allow them to choose the words to define themselves.

The women who came forward to speak against Larry Nassar performed acts of great bravery. They suffered abuse, both at the hands of Nassar and from friends, family, and coaches who thought they were fabricating their stories. They were selfless and strong. And they called themselves survivors.