Grown

In response to contemporary events, Jackson’s novel interrogates the prevalence of predators and how they can hide in plain sight—or, in the case of Korey Fields and the real-life celebrities he resembles—in the spotlight. By pointing out Korey’s celebrity status and the countless characters who enable his behavior, Jackson shows how the entertainment industry can be a breeding ground for sexual predators, and inaction from bystanders can fuel a cycle of trauma.

At Korey’s concert, Korey gets Enchanted’s number by distracting her parents with another celebrity. Enchanted notices that “[her] parents are gushing in front of their favorite artist. [Korey’s bodyguard] is somehow blocking [her] view of them. Or maybe he’s blocking their view of [her]” (42). Other celebrities are used as a distraction, and Korey’s bodyguard is one of many people who work to conceal Korey’s predatory tactics. Throughout the novel, Korey uses his celebrity status to create a smokescreen and distract from his predatory behavior. When he comes to Enchanted’s school to perform, “The entire school is enamored by his charm, even the teachers” (114). When police are called to Korey’s house in Atlanta, the visit ends with one of the officers asking for an autograph. And when a flight attendant becomes a little too suspicious, Korey tries to assure her that “[he’s] not the monster they paint [him] to be. [He’s] a gentleman” (226).

Even with his charm and celebrity status, cracks begin to show in Korey’s superstar veneer. As more girls and women come forward, Korey’s friends start to turn on him, and he begins to get more bad press. Louie admits to Enchanted and her mother that he’s “heard about [Korey’s] […] taste in the past. Everyone has” (245), which enrages Enchanted’s mother. Mrs. Jones is horrified that no one stepped forward to stop Korey, and calls his friends “Just a bunch of grown men letting another grown man chase after children! Cowards!” (246). Mrs. Jones’ outburst encapsulates Jackson’s portrayal of the dark underbelly of the entertainment industry. Korey’s behavior is ignored because, as Louie goes on to explain, he is a superstar who makes millions of dollars every year. No one in a position of power wants to call him out for fear of losing their income stream, and no one who works for him would dare to jeopardize their career by raising allegations. Korey has constructed a bubble of silent protection around himself as a famous musician, and until bystanders are brave enough to call out his behavior, he will continue to exploit young, impressionable girls.

Jackson also explores how public perception of celebrities complicates the ability to hold famous, powerful people accountable for abuse. When Korey’s crimes against Enchanted are revealed, the public loyalty to a beloved musician overshadows Enchanted’s lived experience and trauma. Not only must Enchanted and her family navigate difficult career choices, an imposing and structurally racist law enforcement, and the continued harassment from Korey and his team, but they must also contend with a public that is more sympathetic to Enchanted’s abuser than Enchanted herself. Jackson uses Korey and his fictional celebrity status to emphasize that no one, including millionaire celebrities, are above morality, nor should they be above the law, when it comes to protecting underaged children from sexual exploitation.

While Jackson explores the niche world of celebrity sexual abuse, she also highlights a much more widespread problem: the cultural phenomenon of blaming victims of sexual abuse instead of their abusers, which allows the cycle of abuse to continue and perpetuates and undue burned of shame for those most in need of help.

When news breaks of Candy Cole’s allegations against Korey, there is an instantaneous outcry of disbelief: Sean from Will and Willow demands proof, because “You know girls be lying and trying to trap a bruh” (169). Creighton adds that Candy knew “what she was doing,” because “[b]ack then, [Korey] went triple platinum and was on a world tour” (170), implying that Candy was only after Korey’s fame and money when she “seduced” him. Creighton adds that “she probably didn’t even look fourteen” (170). By revealing that Candy was only 14 when this abuse happened, Jackson illustrates the shocking practice of expecting adult behavior from young teenagers and treating them like perpetrators instead of victims. Instead of believing and sympathizing with Candy, the public looks upon her with a suspicious eye because of their infatuation with a celebrity. Even Enchanted, who has seen Korey’s dark side and his abusive behavior firsthand, calls Candy “a big liar. She has to be. Because what she’s saying about Korey, what he did to her, isn’t possible” (171).

Once Enchanted comes forward with her own claims of sexual abuse, she faces the same degree of victim-blaming as Candy. Strangers on the internet accuse her of lying to Korey about her age, taking advantage of his fame and fortune, and “tempting” him with her body. She starts to blame herself, questioning everything she might have done to lead Korey on. She remembers how “[she] sent him that Aretha Franklin song. [She] followed him on social media. [She] called him in Jersey. [She] wore that sexy top to the studio. [She] kissed him” (268). She allows the voices of the outside world to get into her head. To counteract this, Jackson insists upon Enchanted’s childhood by reminding the reader of her emotional immaturity, lack of lived experience, and childlike interests, including Disney movies.

Fortunately, Enchanted’s parents and Gab believe her story and advocate for her and all of Korey’s other victims. Enchanted’s mother speaks to the room full of judgmental Will and Willow mothers, explaining that it doesn’t matter “how smart our babies are or how we broke the rules before—we know better now” (283), stressing the importance of using their own experiences as adults to advocate for the safety of their children. Her use of the word “babies” emphasizes the fact that these are children, and they are still learning how to navigate the world of adult relationships. Gab points out that “It took sixteen girls to tell [the police] something” (365), and that Enchanted was just one of countless victims of Korey’s predation. Jackson uses Mrs. Jones and Gabriela to argue that men like Korey should be held to a higher standard because they are adults, and adults bear the responsibility of protecting children.