Everyone knows the name of Chanel Miller’s rapist; we know he could swim well, he liked steak, and that he went to Stanford. Yet, for a long time, we didn’t know Chanel’s name or all that she is: a writer, an artist, a poet, and a sister.
Written by Chloe Tredrea in June 2020
No time to be stuck in the past, dreaming of what on I coveted. These rose-tinted glasses are growing dull.
When someone dies, we do not always have to experience grief as sadness. We can appreciate and enjoy life through mourning the end of one.
Memoir can do what the legal system can’t: it voices a survivor’s truth, untainted by doubt and toxic myths, to an audience who listens.