The Conversations I Wish We Were Having About Kobe Bryant’s “Complicated Legacy”

Kitanya Harrison
7 min readJan 27, 2021
Photo by Sgt. Joseph A. Lee via Wiki Commons

It’s been a year since Kobe Bryant was killed in a helicopter crash. Like many, when I learned of Bryant’s death, I thought it was a hoax or misinformation. Then major news sources began to confirm the story. Then came the news that Bryant’s 13 year-old daughter, Gianna, had been traveling with him, as well as six other passengers and the pilot. All nine people on board perished in the crash. The tabloid, TMZ, reported Bryant’s death before his next of kin were notified. A flurry of misinformation followed, and false reports claimed that Rick Fox, Bryant’s former teammate on the LA Lakers, was killed as well. The way the story came out was sensational, unethical, and insensitive. As the waves of shocked grief poured out, so did the pushback against the hagiography of Bryant, who was a legendarily great basketball player. More subtle commentators spoke of his “complicated” legacy or referred to the “Colorado incident.” Others shouted “rapist.”

As news of Bryant’s death spread, so did the heated argument about the appropriateness of discussing the accusation of rape that a 19 year-old hotel employee leveled against him in Eagle, Colorado in the summer of 2003. “It’s too soon. Let his family grieve,” said one side. “It’s never been the right time,” argued the other. The reputations of powerful men are protected viciously. It wasn’t the right time to discuss the rape accusation when Bryant was playing, or after he retired, or when he won his Oscar, or ever. It’s true that the discussion was always smothered — Bryant and his accomplishments were more important. Even so, I didn’t believe it was the right time to bring it up when his and eight other bodies, including that of his 13 year-old child, were still smoldering in a wreck on a hillside and details were sketchy. It all could have waited a day and had more thought put into it. TMZ weren’t the only ones to jump the gun.

As the battle over the issue raged, there was a gaping hole at the center of it all. Perhaps the clearest evidence that much of the warring about Bryant’s legacy has been more projection than anything else was the near erasure of his own words about the accusations against him. On the day the criminal charges against him were dismissed, after his accuser refused to testify, Bryant released the following statement (emphasis added):

“First, I want to apologize directly to the young woman involved in this incident. I want to apologize to her for my behavior that night and for the consequences she has suffered in the past year. Although this year has been incredibly difficult for me personally, I can only imagine the pain she has had to endure. I also want to apologize to her parents and family members, and to my family and friends and supporters, and to the citizens of Eagle, Colorado.

“I also want to make it clear that I do not question the motives of this young woman. No money has been paid to this woman. She has agreed that this statement will not be used against me in the civil case. Although I truly believe this encounter between us was consensual, I recognize now that she did not and does not view this incident the same way I did. After months of reviewing discovery, listening to her attorney, and even her testimony in person, I now understand how she feels that she did not consent to this encounter.

“I issue this statement today fully aware that while one part of this case ends today, another remains. I understand that the civil case against me will go forward. That part of this case will be decided by and between the parties directly involved in the incident and will no longer be a financial or emotional drain on the citizens of the state of Colorado.”

Bryant’s lawyers massaged the language so Bryant didn’t inculpate himself, but the statement leaves little doubt the woman didn’t consent to sex with Bryant. She was raped. Bryant raped her. There is an important discussion being shouted past in the gap between “I truly believe this encounter between us was consensual” and “I now understand how she feels that she did not consent to this encounter.” Something has gone horribly wrong when, after two people end a sexual encounter, one feels it was normal and fine, and the other believes they were raped. There has been, at best, grotesquely warped miscommunication (or none at all) around consent. It also means the pleasure and comfort of the other person in the encounter was disregarded. I suspect these kinds of rapes happen much more often than it’s comfortable to think about.

Years ago, I watched a video of a police interrogation of a young man accused of raping a teenage girl. He indignantly presented himself to the detectives, refused his right to counsel, and, in an offended huff, defended himself by describing in detail his forcible rape of his accuser. It was stunning. It was also clear that he had no idea what rape is. There’s a reason that even though most survivors are raped by someone they know, the image of the armed, violent stranger-as-rapist persists. It creates a bubble for entitled “good guys” who don’t think consent is important and “like it a bit rough” to be rapists, who don’t know they’re rapists. It allows their credulous, wide-eyed “I would never!” routine. In a way, “I’m not a rapist!” functions as a tautology for “I’m a good guy!” I suspect Bryant stumbled into the falsehood at the heart of that illusion in Colorado. I suspect a lot of men have, and avoiding accountability for the harm they’ve caused underpins much of rape apologia. The harm isn’t recognized as such. It’s why date and marital rape are relatively new legal concepts. It’s why victims are routinely blamed, shamed, and dismissed.

Bryant’s legal defense team’s attacks on his accuser were savage. Her mental health, prior sexual activity, ostensible obsession with Bryant and other aspects of her character were impugned so aggressively there was a noticeable drop in calls to rape crisis centers and reports to police in Eagle and surrounding areas. Bryant’s legal team effectively bullied other rape victims into silence. The consequences are reverberating almost two decades later as the same arguments are being marshaled to protect Bryant, and his statement of apology to the victim is being largely ignored. Now that Bryant is dead, there’s no way to put him on the hot seat. There have been attempts to slot in people close to him to answer uncomfortable questions.

While interviewing former WNBA star, Lisa Leslie, Gayle King raised Bryant’s rape accusation and prodded Leslie about how she reconciled that with her memories of Bryant. The fever pitch of indignation in response to the line of questioning culminated with rapper, Snoop Dogg, ranting in an Instagram video, calling King a “funky-faced bitch,” and threatening to “come get her.” The misogyny that had been hiding behind much of the defense of Bryant exploded. Even so, it wasn’t that simple. I don’t believe in sanitizing the reputations of powerful men, but there was reason to look askance at King’s framing of the issue. She created the impression that Leslie should have witnessed a dark, Mr. Hyde side of Bryant. Plenty of men who seem perfectly nice and are well-respected are also rapists, and no one would suspect it. The notion that rapists present as monstrous or deviant in their other relationships isn’t always true and helps provide cover to sexual assailants and primes people to disbelieve their victims when they speak out. In addition, as horrible a crime as it was, there doesn’t seem to be anything to indicate that the rape in Colorado was part of an ongoing pattern of violence against women on Bryant’s part. Not every rapist is an irredeemable serial offender. There was a way to prevent the erasure of a terrible crime without creating the implication of habitual offending with no evidence to support it.

Bryant’s accuser was bullied out of testifying and never got her day in court. The tactics employed work, and versions of them are used every day. Bryant’s celebrity and wealth were shields. As was a culture that doesn’t really see rape as a problem and creates significant obstacles to investigation and prosecution. Bryant’s case also raises questions about accountability, punishment, and forgiveness. If his accuser believed Bryant’s contrition was genuine and accepted his public apology, does that change things? Are criminal prosecution and custodial sentences the only ways for society to seek redress for rape and other serious crimes? Would convicting and incarcerating Bryant have been justice? Any appraisal of Bryant’s life that doesn’t discuss the rape is dishonest. Does the same apply to any such appraisal that foregrounds it? Bryant’s legacy is complicated. The statement being deployed as an elision to protect him doesn’t make it untrue.

Bryant did one of the worst things you can to another human being. If it’s true that he genuinely didn’t mean to, that reflects a callous sense of entitlement that is only slightly better than fully formed intent to harm. Sex as conquest and sport dehumanizes people who aren’t in on the game. It reinforces a lack of empathy that makes rape more likely. A robust discussion about this didn’t happen in 2003, it didn’t happen following Bryant’s untimely death, and it’s not happening now. It’s a lost opportunity.

A version of this story was originally published on my Patreon.

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Kitanya Harrison

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