I can’t decide if I want to applaud journalist Mac McClelland or verbally backhand her. Both reactions to McClelland’s Good-magazine essay, “I’m Gonna Need You to Fight Me on This: How Violent Sex Helped Ease My PTSD,” are visceral and near involuntary.
Depending on whom you ask — another journalist, a feminist, a native of Haiti or all three in one — the 31-year-old human rights reporter is either a hero or a villain. She’s either a courageous chronicler of issues often kept quiet or a typical colonialist, hijacking a devastated country’s narrative to advance her own agenda.
What’s at issue for those who fall on either side of McClelland’s crucifixion or beatification is the ownership of story. Do the stories McClelland captures as a journalist, and the subjects trapped therein, belong to her to do with as she pleases, for as long as she pleases and for whatever publication she pleases? Can McClelland tell her own story about overcoming PTSD without the third-person details that prompted that disorder in the first place? Should she?
To answer those questions, first you have to know the story behind the two stories. Two different pieces of writing are battling each other in this debate over who has the right to tell what. One is a reported “dispatch from the tent cities” that McClelland wrote for Mother Jones after being sent to Haiti on assignment in September 2010. The second is the personal-narrative essay that she wrote for Good about her adverse reaction upon returning from Haiti.
In February, Mother Jones published McClelland’s cover story about postearthquake Haiti entitled, “Aftershocks: Welcome to Haiti’s Reconstruction Hell.” A year after the disaster, she wrote specifically about the high incidence of rape in the more than 1,300 camps occupied by those rendered homeless by the 7.0 earthquake. In that same issue, Mother Jones ran a “special report on Haiti” that included more than 10 articles, most of which were written by McClelland.
McClelland’s personal essay was published in Good last month. In it, she recounts her struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder on her return from Haiti. After spending a substantial amount of time with very recent victims of violent rape, and after being personally threatened with unwanted sexual advances, McClelland returned to her home in San Francisco mentally shaken.
“I cried in the shower. I cried through most of a 1.5-hour yoga class,” writes McClelland, who unconventionally “cured” herself with the help of a therapist and by having “incredibly violent sex” with an ex-boyfriend. Her ex agreed to physically restrain her during sex and even went so far as to cover her face with a pillow — all the better to punch it with.