Ogwuegbu Responds to Assault Case Coverage

Author: Chigozie Ogwuegbu

After more than year of being silenced, imposed on me because of the criminal charges I was forced to defend, I could not help but feel a profound sense of anger and frustration after reading The Middlebury Campus article, "Alumnus Acquitted of Sexual Assault" (The Campus, Feb. 19, 2003). Up to now, other than generally asserting that I was innocent, I have made no public attempt to address the accusations which were levied against me. Unfortunately, as I have had to endure a year of court dates, emotional and psychological trauma and finally a three-day trial, this ordeal seems never ending. No one can imagine the sense of helplessness and, at times, despair I felt when I realized I was caught up in a criminal justice system that frankly viewed me as being guilty until proven innocent. I know there were many in the Middlebury College community who felt likewise that I was guilty. My only question to them is why if a man, especially an African-American man, is accused by a white woman of rape and the only evidence is the accuser's words, why is there a presumption of guilt?
The Campus article raised more questions than ever. I came away feeling that questions about my innocence remained. Although the legal proceedings had concluded, I was once again being tried in the "court" of public opinion.
For one, The Campus felt no obligation to protect my name from being associated with the charges, despite the obvious damage to my reputation. In contrast, the "plaintiff" remained anonymous. For all anyone knew, this person, who was sympathetically portrayed, could have been anyone at Middlebury. Therefore, she was shielded from the potential prejudice and indeed scrutiny she might have otherwise been subjected to. The absence of a name negates the possibility of readers having some context that would allow for a more critical evaluation of the facts. Anonymity, therefore, frees one from judgment, something I was not afforded, because my name does not lend itself to ambiguity as to my background or ethnicity.
Thankfully, the jury had the opportunity to become acquainted with the "plaintiff" and with me when both of us had the opportunity to testify. Each of us was thoroughly cross-examined to reveal the truth and ultimately to test the veracity of our competing versions of the facts. After three days of trial and testimony, in which the fullest extent of the state's investigative and prosecutorial resources were brought to bear against me with the single purpose of proving my guilt, the jury of 12 entered a verdict to "acquit" me of all charges. They decided this after deliberating for only two hours.
An "acquittal," according to Black's Law Dictionary, means "The legal and formal certification of the innocence of a person who has been charged with a crime; deliverance or setting free a person from the charge of guilt." According to the commentators, "in the narrowest sense it is the absolution of a party".
So why is it after reading The Campus article I do not feel "set free" from the charges brought against me? I want no part of "victimhood." After being deprived of my freedom and experiencing the disempowerment that an accused man faces within the criminal justice system, I will not empower anyone to feel "sorry" for me.
In the end, were many people willing to assume that the sexual relationship was non-consensual because this matter involved a black man having sex with a white woman? Were people willing to accept that the plaintiff was forced or intimidated into having sex because of these racial differences? I have struggled with these questions during the entire course of the proceedings because I did not want to accept that at Middlebury, this place of liberal thinkers, such views could hold sway or affect the way I was perceived by others. Yet what I said really didn't seem to matter. Reality intruded on the illusion that things would be different at the College when it came to race and gender issues.
Other than the fact we are all Americans, a rural Vermont jury comprised of seven white women and five white men is not, in the most perfect sense, a jury of my peers as guaranteed by the Sixth Amendment. Yet that jury, after thoroughly examining the evidence and listening to the witnesses, measuring the credibility of each, particularly that of the "plaintiff" and the "defendant," voted to acquit and found me not guilty. White men and white women from Addison County came to believe that I did not sexually assault the "plaintiff," whose anonymity I shall respect. An exoneration based solely on the evidence presented in court.
Now if The Campus had addressed that aspect of the trial, I am sure some people might feel differently after reading the comments and quotes attributed to the "plaintiff" who seemed to imply that she didn't get a "fair hearing." Vermont is the whitest state in the United States. I am a black man, often portrayed through stereotypes and media images as a sexual or criminal predator, and yet what is reaffirming in this, despite my own prejudices at the outset of the trial, is that 12 white people from "white Vermont" placed credence in my testimony and that of those who testified on my behalf and concluded that I did not assault a "white plaintiff."
If I were in Washington, D.C., for example, and got tried for this case and got acquitted, people could easily say, "Oh! Well, he probably did it," because a mixed jury would have heard the case. Given that Washington is predominantly black, many people believe it is the one city in which a black man will likely be cut loose by a black jury on a criminal charge. How's that for bias? But no, in Middlebury 12 white people took less than two hours to reach a not guilty verdict. I have repeated this fact for emphasis because I want you to think about how you would feel, facing the possibility of 20 years in jail and the permanent label of "sex offender." Walk a moment in my shoes and consider being placed in a similar circumstance before a jury not of your peers.
Though I initially felt a little betrayed and hurt by The Campus article, I appreciate the opportunity to tell my side of the story. For a long while it has been difficult for me to feel like a part of this community. Many turned their backs on me and treated me as though I was a lesser person. When I graduated, the joy I should have felt was muted and filled with sadness because of the legal gauntlet I had yet to face before I could truly look forward to the "bright" future a Middlebury education promises. This experience has been a hard-earned, real-life lesson and one I would hate to see any other person face. I now realize absolution may never be complete. Prior to my ordeal, I was ignorant of the machinations of the legal system that supposedly serves and protects the freedoms and democracy of our beloved country. Until I almost lost my freedom, I readily assumed that if someone was charged with a crime, that they had probably committed the crime. I also believed in the fairness and impartiality of the investigators and prosecutors who I now understand have biases and political agendas.
There are always two sides to a story. We should work hard not to form opinions until we have heard both sides. It is only fair.
I am not here to retry the case or prove my innocence. But I do want to help students gain insight and understanding of the situation and then allow them to draw their own conclusions. People who know me can testify as to my character and the kind of person I was during my four years at Middlebury. I hope that one day people will associate and recognize my name for accomplishments beyond this unfortunate event.

Chigozie Ogwuegbu is a graduate of the Class of 2002 and lives in Washington, D.C.