ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution asked Atlanta-based international artist Fahamu Pecou to write this piece about the Bill Cosby assault allegations because of the influence Cosby's professional work has had on Pecou's artistic career. Pecou, who is working on his doctorate at Emory University, is a graduate of the former Atlanta College of Art. His work explores representations of black masculinity and personal responsibility. He was the subject of an award-winning Personal Journey in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution in 2013. Pecou has a solo exhibition of his work opening in December at the Museum of Contemporary Art of Georgia and a solo exhibition opening in February at the High Museum.
I grew up on Bill Cosby. From “Picture Pages” to “The Cosby Show,” “Fat Albert” to “A Diff’rent World,” Cosby wasn’t just another figure on television — he became the idea of fatherhood and public scholarship upon which I modeled my own life.
Images of the Huxtable family remain transformative. Today I proudly wear my “Hillman College” T-shirt as I shuttle across Emory University’s campus in pursuit of my Ph.D., jokingly referring to the fictitious college from “A Diff’rent World” as my alma mater. Cosby’s ability to map his academic and scholarly concerns onto mass media inspired my own foray into public scholarship. His vision of black America is still revolutionary, resisting pervasive stereotypes about black families, black masculinity and black aspiration. This should not be forgotten or forsaken.
In a Gawker.com article in February, I learned that nearly a decade ago at least 13 women had come forward with allegations of having been drugged and raped by Cosby. Some of the women were paid off by the beloved entertainer, others discredited or simply ignored. Cosby, however, was never formally charged in any of these cases, and thus the world kept spinning.
Yet the pain I feel over the mounting number of accusers coming forth against him is eerily familiar and conflicting.
During my childhood, I witnessed two close relatives experience the trauma of being sexually assaulted at the hands of the same family member. What made the experience even more traumatic was that this was someone who, in the absence of my own father, had taken me under his wing as his son. The experience was heart-wrenching. I knew what he did was wrong and I was enraged. Yet I couldn’t come to grips with my love and loyalty for him and I didn’t know how to protect his victims.
So I did nothing. It is my greatest shame.
Ultimately I had to make a choice and defend my loved ones who’d been assaulted — and who, like Cosby’s accusers, were doubted and scorned for speaking out. Since that time I promised never to be silent in that way again. When I made that commitment, I promised myself to call it as I see it, no matter how unpopular that stance might be.
Though familiar, these allegations against Cosby have taught me new lessons. Through this dialogue we get to ask and hopefully answer some important questions. What happens when sexual violence is perpetrated by someone we care about? How do we reconcile our affection for the person accused of rape while standing up for his victim(s)? Can we condemn Cosby’s alleged transgressions and still benefit from the joy his work has given us? Is it possible to separate the man from his art?
These are complicated questions that won’t be resolved in front of a live studio audience. When someone such as Cosby, a person who has impacted our lives on so many levels, is accused of rape, we all feel like victims. And we should.
In many ways we are the victims as well as the victimizers. We live in a rape culture. Admitting this to ourselves is the first step in rectifying it. We have chosen to overlook the allegations against Cosby because we like him. We have chosen silence because speaking up is too painful. Those affected by his alleged wrongdoing didn’t have a choice. Yet we act as though they did. This type of thinking is emblematic of the silence we impose on women who have been victims of sexual assault. Somehow we find a way to blame them or deny the truth of their experience.
But here, Cosby has provided another challenging lesson for us to consider — choosing what’s right over what’s comfortable. Doing what’s necessary and owning the outcome. Silence is not an option. Only through open and honest discourse can we end this culture of rape and sexual violence.
I don’t know if Cosby is guilty, but it would be irresponsible to ignore his accusers any longer. He should be made to answer these accusations. If he is indeed guilty, I pray justice is swift and fair.
I remain committed to my mission of using my work to expose and fight sexual violence wherever it manifests in our culture. Though it is easy to deny our proximity to it, this experience lays bare that sexual violence exists at ALL levels of society, enacted by people of all stripes, some as close to us as our “TV dad.”
In order for us to truly combat sexual violence we must be honest about it — how and why it happens, when and where it happens — regardless of who is making it happen or to whom it is happening. And that’s something I learned from Dr. Cliff Huxtable.
About the Author
