Abusive legislator-elect Aaron Coleman’s female victims are being victimized all over again by the appalling silence of Wyandotte County and its Democratic Party.
Almost no one of prominence is standing up for, or reaching out to, the half-dozen young women who Coleman admits having verbally abused and blackmailed in school, or who more recently alleged abuse and harassment as young adults — though some folks have reached out quietly from outside the county.
“There’s more support on that Johnson County side than there is over here in Wyandotte County,” says activist Faith Rivera, a Kansas City, Kansas, resident and the Coleman victims’ chief advocate. “Nobody in my community has stood up for these girls.”
Why is that — after several victims came forward this summer to warn voters that Coleman had berated girls and even used revenge porn to punish one of them in middle school? One victim said she attempted suicide, and several are suffering from anxiety and self-esteem issues some five years later.
Will no one besides Rivera champion their cause? Where is Wyandotte County’s delegation to the Kansas Legislature? Where are the county’s other leaders?
“I feel that our state representatives and our elected officials are cowards,” Rivera says. “They’re not stopping him. They’re not standing up. They have not stood up since June 17 when this all came out. We need more people to stand up for these girls and say, ‘Hey, you know what? We’re not going to allow Aaron Coleman to have power; we don’t want Aaron Coleman to represent our county.”
A Kansas City-area lawyer offered his services to help the young women with possible legal action, but Rivera says the lawyer has fallen out of contact.
Not everyone is standing by passively. Former girlfriend Taylor Passow has been vocal in her condemnation of what she describes as Coleman’s physically abusive behavior toward her only just a year ago. And Brandie Armstrong, campaign manager for Coleman’s primary opponent Stan Frownfelter, says she continues to be harassed by the 20-year-old Coleman via phone.
“I will be filing for a no-contact order this week,” Armstrong told The Star Editorial Board. “I’m filing the no-contact order to protect myself and my family, but also because it’s time someone tells this boy the way he behaves is despicable and has consequences. It may not be much, but it’s something.”
It’s certainly more than what other area “leaders” have done — even as Coleman has perversely nominated himself to be sergeant-at-arms of the Wyandotte County Democratic Party when it holds elections for officers in the next week.
So, the party not only has left his victims out in the cold, but may install Coleman as an officer. There’s a statement for you.
In his own statement to The Star, Coleman wrote, “Brandi Armstrong worked for Rep. Frownfelter and is calling critiques against him harassment. I have not said anything to her, only to Frownfelter’s campaign in the past.”
Meanwhile, the abuse of the young women continues — by Coleman supporters who attack them on social media, Rivera says.
“They need some backing. It shouldn’t be a victim-blaming situation,” Rivera argues. “They did nothing wrong. And they are living their days thinking that they have because people that contact them are telling them that they’re bad people.”
Passow’s only regret, she says, is not coming forward before Coleman’s Aug. 4 win in the Democratic primary.
“I don’t consider myself a victim anymore. I’m a survivor,” Passow says. “And so are the rest of the ladies who have ever had an unsafe encounter with him. But knowing that someone who caused so much emotional trauma on multiple people is in a powerful position is just frightening.”
Why is Rivera involved?
“Because nobody else is,” she says. “These girls deserve so much better. And I think about them a lot. And I worry about them, because I know what they’re going through. Nobody’s standing up for them.”
Rivera cringes at the thought that she might have done nothing to support them. In that case, she says, “Who am I? I’m as bad as these elected officials that are not standing with them.
“I’m going to keep on him. I’m going to become another limb on him.”
Beyond that, the silence is not only deafening. It’s damning.
“Unfortunately in our county, there is nobody,” Rivera says.
*story by The Kansas City Star